My resolve to focus on my training, my apprenticeships, and my future, has been tested, and has stood strong. It hurts awfully, though. I've been alone nearly all of the last three years. Every time I feel like I'm not alone, it turns out I still am. Maybe I always will be. And that, above and beyond any pain from the particulars of the moment, makes me think this hurt is meant to be.
Loakee and Haritha chose a surprising method to confront me yesterday. Instead of addressing what happened, the words we said to one another, they just flat-out denied it, pretended nothing happened, that she hadn't said no to my offer of dancing, that there hadn't been whispered words afterwards, nor the conversation to follow on the porch of the Pony. That kind of disingenuous behavior, I may not be smart, but you don't have to be smart to see how untrustworthy it is.
All the more so when she went ahead and denied the reports, which I received from several people with no reason to lie, of her merry-making later that night. And in that, I find a nugget of laughter. Loakee seems bent on hurtful trickery, getting people to trust him so he can slyly play them and hurt them. Now I think perhaps one of his close companions is doing the same thing to him, and he doesn't realize it. Things he thinks are secret are getting out of his circle, and it hasn't even dawned on him that someone close to him is betraying his secrets. Either that, or deliberately spreading slanderous lies about him, which is the same betrayal in different shoes. I suppose it's like they say: he who lives by the sword dies by the sword.
The one thing that troubles me that I can't put an answer on is whether Haritha is complicit, or is herself a victim of the same kind of mean-spirited trickery. I would feel terrible to think that someone used me to hurt her, the way they used her to hurt me. But the more I think about it, the more sure I am that it's not my place to do anything about it, or even to figure it out. I've told her what I heard, and what I suspect. I've never said even so much as a half-truth, let alone a lie, to her. It's up to her what she does with what's before her. She can choose to question the true intent of those she's considered friends, and judge them by their behavior; or she can choose not to. That's her choice, and her freedom. If she is truly innocent of these acts of treachery, I hope with all my heart she draws herself away from these corrupting influences, and finds a life of joy and family.
No, that's not exactly right. Even if she is involved, even if she knew, and was being deliberate, in hurting me, I still do hope she finds that life of joy and family. I suppose there are few people who would believe that. Spite and vengefulness are the rule, not the exception, and those who have them in their heart, imagine they see them behind everyone else's eyes too.
I've never understood that. What does it profit me to see someone else hurt, no matter what they've done? It might help if it stopped them from causing further hurt, but it does not. In fact, it seems to make further hurtful actions more likely. I suppose there is something that lodges in the soul of some people that makes it an act of pleasure in itself to see another hurt, and I lack it. Or it slumbers in me, and nothing has ever awakened it.
I don't even wish Loakee the tiniest portion of ill fortune. Perhaps the fact that I'm amused at the idea that someone is playing on him the kind of joke he plays on others seems like I do relish in the possibility of him suffering, but it's not that. The joke in the irony of that does not depend on it hurting him. If he realized in time to spare himself that hurt, it would make it no less funny, and that proves it's not out of ill will.
While I am glad my resolve to focus on my future was not bent by this confrontation, I think it best if I simply avoid their company from now on. Not because I think my resolve might fade. If anything, the flurry of denials and the disingenuous nature of the incident makes stronger the certainty of untrustworthiness. It's just that nothing good can come of exposing myself to it. Not for anyone else; I am powerless to spare the next person who'll be the butt of their jokes from the experience. And not for me; all I can see in this is regret, and a reminder that I will likely be alone.
I wonder, now, if the idea of returning to Bree after my trip of next spring is nearly as appealing as I thought. I have a scant few true friends here, but they are scarcely seen, all of them busy with their own families, with little room for me in their lives. The last time I saw Miss Brynleigh or even Miss Sareva was the day before the night when I asked Haritha to dance, and everything turned to darkness. In fact, I've seen few people who know me, friend or otherwise, and spoken to fewer; and if I avoid Loakee's circle, and if I am avoided by those who he maligns me to, I'm likely to see even fewer. If the Mark will welcome me, perhaps it's best I accept whatever welcome I can find there.
