July 2, 2009"You were texting him while you were lying in my arms?! You already know how I feel about you texting this guy to begin with, and the fact that you lied about texting him, that you hide it when you're texting him, now you're doing it in my arms?" Jenny is loud, and other people around us on the grass in Union Square turn to look.
"I thought you were asleep," I say, and I immediately know that won't help.
"So it's okay as long as I'm not conscious to be aware of it?" Tears are starting to flow, but it's anger this time.
"You know what, you're right - it's a bad habit I have in general, I do sometimes spend too much time texting someone when I'm with someone else, and it sends the message that you're not as important as they are. I'm really sorry." Jenny takes a deep breath and, incongruously, smiles. "What?" I ask.
"It's a little bit of a relief to actually be upset about something for a change," she says, and reaches for the huge stash of tissues in her bag. I smile, while inside I'm trying not to burst into a rage.
Really? There is one person who's been reliably making me smile these last few weeks while you've been buried under a neurochemical pile of devastation and pain, one person I've been able to go for any sense of sanity to my life, the only person in my life who hasn't been telling me to get away from you for my own good and warning me about the consequences of trying to get you through this. Really? There's someone I can feel like I'm actually getting something from, the thing that I've been missing from you, but I'm still here, I'm still with you, I'm still sticking by you, and I have to be made to feel guilty about it? Really?
It's a stupid cliché, the lesbian jealous of her bisexual girlfriend getting close to a guy, but the fact is that I did lie about him. Yes. I did. But really? What else could I have done? What possible other way could I have phrased it to you, what possible way would you have been okay with this, full-well knowing I was getting from someone else what I couldn't get from you? In what way, what possible tactful and yet still honest way could I have phrased that? Tell me. Yes. I lied.
But I lied about him because you're clinically depressed, which is a pretty good reason, I want to scream, because it would've been just another thing for you to set you off, because I wanted to spare your feelings. The only thing wrong with that plan... was that you caught me, and that may have set you off even worse. And yes, I'm the one who insisted at the beginning of this relationship that we should always be honest, even though there can be consequences to that honesty. I told you that when it comes to relationships, I believe that lying is 100% detrimental to the ultimate goal, because once trust is gone... there's nothing.
This boy I met on a catering gig with awful timing, this boy who I've admitted to you I told "It's complicated" instead of "No" when he asked if I was single because before you were diagosed, all I knew was that you had become smotheringly controlling and irrational. Before you were diagnosed, when all I knew is that you were crying. And I couldn't stop it. And you couldn't stop it. And I didn't know why. And you didn't know why.
This boy who makes me laugh - this boy about whom Dara joked that I was the only person she knew with a girlfriend and a boyfriend, hitting uncomfortably close to home - I feel him becoming important to me, and inescapably, to you he will always be the boy I lied about.
And I can't help but wonder a little who should be seeking forgiveness from whom.
I don't want to talk to anyone anymore. I just want to go to sleep, I think as we pack up our stuff from the impromptu picnic and start heading home.