Oh, and this?
That's sort of what I felt like when I first read this:
So how did I feel exactly? How do I feel now, for instance? Funny you should ask.
I used to be really good friends with this girl I’ll call Angela. This was back in the days when I used the words “really good friends” to mean “I have a huge crush on you, but I will never do anything about it because I’m scared to death of commitment.” So yeah, about a month ago.
Anyway, Angela would tell me about all her hook-ups, and we’d do the whole “What do you think this means?” thing, and I would not be jealous in the least, because I was like the husband -- I was the one she talked to, instead of the one she talked about. And these other guys? They meant nothing. Except for this one guy who really, really, rubbed me the wrong way. Rubbed her the wrong way, too – she referred to him as The Toad. He had a girlfriend, and cheated on that girlfriend whenever he got the chance, and always made passes at Angela, and the more he did it, the more she said she hated him. She would make faces when he wasn’t looking, and when he was looking, she would insult him to his face, and say things like “There is not enough alcohol in the world to get me drunk enough to sleep with you,” and you know exactly where this is going, right? Of course you do. But I didn’t.
Two years later in casual conversation, Angela says, “God, that was even worse than when I slept with The Toad.” And if you listen really hard, you can still hear the echo of my jaw hitting the floor.
MATTHEW: [what the fuckity fuck?] You slept with The Toad?
ANGELA: [uh-oh] . . . yeah?
MATTHEW: Angela, how could you do that?!? You swore you’d never do that!
ANGELA: Well what else was I going to say? You hated him so much that I ---
MATTHEW: So wait --- you swore you’d never sleep with him because you thought I didn’t WANT you to?
ANGELA: No, because I KNEW you didn’t want me to. You had me on such a pedestal that I couldn’t, you know, . . .
MATTHEW: No I DON'T know.
ANGELA: Matthew. You were so totally in love with me. It was obvious; everybody knew it. I knew it. And even though I knew it, I couldn't do anything about it, except try not to hurt you. And yeah, I resented you for that. I resented you a lot. But I got off on it, too. I got off on the fact that I meant the world to you. I LOVED the fact that I meant the world to you. You had me on such a pedestal. It was heaven. So when the thing with The Toad happened, I couldn’t tell you. How could I tell you? It would have killed you. And it would have made me less that perfect.
MATTHEW: But you WERE less than perfect!
ANGELA: No. Not as long as you didn’t think I was. As long as you thought I was perfect, I felt perfect. Which is why I couldn’t tell you about The Toad.
MATTHEW: Which is why you lied.
ANGELA: And it was a small price to pay, for staying up on that pedestal. I had to lie, Matthew. If I told you the truth, it’d be like telling you there was no Santa Claus.
MATTHEW: I’m not six, Angela.
ANGELA: [sadly] All men are six when it comes to the Pedestal, Matthew.
MATTHEW: [shakes head while looking off into space]
ANGELA: How are you feeling right now? Tell me how you're feeling.
MATTHEW: [because hiding behind a quotation is the best defense ever] I feel like a guy standing on a station platform in the rain, with a comical look on his face, because his insides have been kicked out.
And that’s how I feel about the 'Roid Sox. The perfect thing I idolized is human. The moment that I treasured was fool’s gold. I am six and there is no Santa Claus. I am in love and Angela slept with The Toad.