Desperation. The evidence mounted that your faith which you mistakenly built upon men, your entire spirituality, your life, was standing precariously high upon the wobbling foundation of an artfully contrived fraud. Remember the quiet desperation? We have lived a life of quiet desperation. Whether by epiphany or by gravity pulling us down a gently sloping drive, we become aware that things have changed and our world is turned upside down. We now must deal with loss. As loosing a loved one to death, you lost yourself. The only way to emerge from this is to allow yourself to grieve.
Do you remember the denial? "No, this cannot be true", "this is not happening", "I'll wake up soon and things will be normal again". But your new reality is the present. This is your life and there is no going back.
Do you remember the panic? You cant stay in the fraud, but you can't leave either. Your family, your friends! Everything important in your life is tied to this fraud. You try to act like everything is OK, but it gradually sickens you to keep roll playing as if nothing has changed. You want to scream, you want to cry, you want to tell someone but you can't, they will not understand.
Eventually the pain of living this miserable life becomes greater than the anticipated pain of being true to yourself. So you do it. You speak out, you blow your cover, shed the layers of actors makeup and emerge naked as the "bastard". Your closest friend cries "How could you do this to me" or "you have changed" and "you are causing me unspeakable pain". Yes, you have changed. But not suddenly. It has been over a period of months or years, but it is a new you. A better, no, it is the REAL you. Finally.
But there is no turning back now. You have to be punished. You couldn't do this without being insane, on drugs, or influenced by Satan. Your friends can't go along with this, nor can they be viewed as having accessed matters wrongly. You have gone bad, that simple. You have turned like mayonnaise in a hot sun. You are dangerous, poisonous.
The rumors must be spread to protect perceptions. You have lost your mind. You have turned to the flesh. Sin has become your obsession and you don't care who you hurt. Details of your deviance emerge from private circles. Stories sprout like spring flowers that quickly grow into strangling vines full of thorns. You are such an ASS to them. How could you do this to them. How could you hurt the people you love.
Then a flash of memory overwhelms your emotions, the love you have for them. Your times together. Your laughter together. Your tears together. The sharing and the sacrifices. Do they remember who you were? Do they know you haven't changed? Do they realize you are only stepping away from the imitation life but your heart and soul are the same. Can't they see you still love them, yet they respond with hatred and unthinkable accusations.
You have no alternative. What's done is done. You must move on. You can't hang on to those who withdraw. You can only hang on to the memories. Even though they murder you with their tongues and hate your very soul, you give them a tearful hug in your heart and move on. Move on.
For a moment, a moment to cherish, the desperation subsides, replaced with sadness.
Steve