Day Three- Co-Workers vs. Co-Dependents

"There are few whom I love, and fewer still of whom I think well." Jane Austen has always been an author dear to my heart, but with this Pride and Prejudice excerpt, I think she hit the nail on the head.

I can count on one hand, the people whom I would take a bullet for out of love. But when I was in highschool, I was an "I-love-you" whore. I used the words consistantly. I used it with friends, aquaintences, teachers even. Now, after some experience and reflection, I know that love is something sacred. And if I were to go around telling everyone that I loved them when I didn't, not only was I a hypocrite but I would have made no progress since high school. And that thought is nothing short of terrifying.

When I first started at my current job, I took advantage of the fact that no one knew me. For instance, I wear a gaudy $1.49 ring from Forever 21 to ward off the average creep. When I sat down to my first day of training, my boss assumed I was engaged. I didn't tell her otherwise. In a few days, every reservation agent and supervisor was congratulating me on my upcomming wedding. My boss, let's call her J., peppered me with questions: what were my colors? Who were my bridesmaids going to be? Where was it going to take place? Small? Big? As a newlywed, J. was excited at anything pertaining to that fleeting and yet binding sacralige we call marriage. I haven't told her the truth. And I don't think I will.

Co-workers vs. co-dependents. Which would I rather abuse? I now supposedly have a soon-to-be co-dependent, but I'm lying about it. So I am abusing the facade the Holy Church calls marriage. At the same time, I am lying to my co-workers about something, to be quite honest, I wish was a reality. That gaudy piece of glass I wear on my left hand has grown on me and I find part of myself wishing I was genuinely engaged. Usually, I wouldn't care either way who I was abusing, as horrible as that sounds. But the conscience instilled in me by loving yet overbearing, republican Christian parents, won't let me enjoy this little game I created for myself. You could say it's grown over time.

To add to all of this, I do have a special someone. One of those people I'd take a bullet for.

The way I see it is that I have to live with the daily reminder that I am not what I say I am. That is my consequence. I just can't bring myself to expose a game that, while wrong, is still fun.