Preface:

The writing ability necessary to even do justice to writing in the style of Victor Eremita is one I do not believe I possess. From that, I will be writing from the perspective of someone I have not been close to for a while, to say the least. Invariably that means, though I may bloody well try to approximate such a person’s thoughts, they will be forever tinged by my own feelings, regardless of how hard I try. Thus, there will be multiple journals covering multiple interpretations of the same event instead of merely one. I have chosen to do it this way so as to approach a sense of truth, though it be different from how I feel it compared to how you may feel these journals, or Memoriae, as I have chosen to call them, are. It could just be the case I wandered into extraordinary luck as Eremita did and just stumbled into some of this person’s journal entries, but that would require some sense of a suspension of disbelief, no? In any case, do not trust all of what I write: all may not be as it seems and so I ask you think as you read this. Enjoy the irony, if it is there, though I will be hurt if you think me to be a deceiver capable of ironic contortions.

Memoria 1: What caused him to ask me to talk to him and what does he want to say, in light of our history?

So he asked me to meet him to talk about something. Judging by the tone he had, at least from what I was told, it seems serious. I’m just wondering what he wants to talk about that’s so important? That’s because I don’t remember much from when we knew each other. All I can say is we talked for a while and he chose to go somewhere else for some reason. I think that reason might’ve been something about more opportunities and a better education or something like that. But after that? We never really talked, instead just pleasantly greeting each other when he occasionally came back. So I can’t really tell what’s going on in his head that prompted this.

We just finished talking. It was relatively quick: like 5, maybe 10 minutes. I don’t know how to feel about this. he used to mean something to me, but when he gave his apology, I didn’t feel very much. This may be because I haven’t thought about him or the time we spent too much after he left. I did thank him for the apology, it’s a nice thing to do after all, but I politely told him I didn’t remember as much as he did. I told him it sucked that he felt guilty for such a long time, but we aren’t close enough to talk about much of anything. He looked sad about that, but he said he understood and thanked me for listening to him, even though he thought something like this would happen. Finally he said: “Goodbye and good luck then. I only wish things had turned out differently.” After that, the conversation ended and we left to our separate ways. It was nice to be appreciated, but a bit tragic for him to torture himself for years, thinking he hurt me with his behavior.

Memoria 2: Why does he want to talk to me and why is he doing this now instead of earlier?

I heard this from someone I knew a few years ago. He wanted to talk to me. After all these years, what does he have to say to me? What is he getting at? I can only assume he might want to ask me out because he’s attracted to me now. If that’s the case, that’d be real low for him. But I was told he looked and sounded serious, not really hopeful, so that might not be the case. If that’s true, then it’s something else. Is this something to do with our old friendship? That might be the case. But I won’t know unless I talk to him. It might be smart to bring someone along to know why this is happening…

That was interesting. I’m glad that’s what turned out to be his reason for wanting to talk to me. But, at the same time, it broke my heart hearing the guilt in his voice when he apologized to me. Imagine that, 6 years of consistent guilt. Sure I occasionally thought about him, but only as a person who ended up being right about people being awful. Now he comes and tells me he was wrong about that and I am the reason for that. He says it’s because of how I treated him back then that made him realize his error in think people were terrible.

Talk about dreary when he thinks he’s responsible for me becoming cynical. But I’m glad he was honest about all of this. Maybe, if even the sourest of people can begin to see the best in people, I might regain that: after all, there aren’t many people like that anymore. I don’t know if we will see each other again or if that chapter of my life is over, but in some way I do want to see him again and talk as we used to. What’s done is done though. He did say something ridiculous and sweet, as I was able to see him long ago. He said: “I realise it is a difficult task, to say the least, but as you and a certain doctor taught me, I want to live up to one of the most difficult ideals I can live up to: the ideal of loving everyone equally. It is supremely difficult to have that sort of godly love, to pilfer more from that learned man. It is the god who lowers himself down to the lowest position and still manages to love and suffer in ways no man can comprehend. Why am I saying this? It is because I have decided to try and emulate this, regardless of the pain and suffering it entails. Finally, I have only to say this: I love you. Thank you for being the impetus for my new journey. Thank you for embracing and loving me when no one would, not even myself. Goodbye, good luck, and if the Fates ever be so kind, may we meet again under better circumstances than to ones we met under.” Then, he left.

Postscript:

This was a work of deception and it would do well for you to disregard it as an exercise in aesthetic expression rather than anything meaningful. This work aims to further the cause of those who wish to observe such an emotional spectacle and gawk, perhaps even laugh at its absurdity. You can see this to be the case; it’s not my job to tell you how to see this after all. Whether I accomplish what I want to accomplish is my only measure of success: everything else is irrelevant, even those memories in the Memoriae.

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