I’m getting this feeling again. It’s a sense that comes to me when I feel like I’ve trapped myself in a hurtful situation, when I start feeling agitated, lonely, abandoned and wronged at the same time.
The short story is, I’m seeing a guy who cannot deal with the fact that I’m an atheist. I should have guessed it. The fact that he had three different Bibles in his bookcase should have been a red flag. Along with an endless parade of other, much bigger “clues” which showed that, unlike me, who chose not to be judgmental and self-righteous about his personal opinions, the guy is completely intolerant of different life views.
I’m angry with him for showing me early on another side – a sweet, kind and giving side which tricked me into thinking he was, above all, sweet, kind and giving.
I’m also angry with myself for allowing my feelings of loneliness to cloud my better judgement. I saw this coming a mile away (or kilometers away, as we say here). Yet, I always seem to make the same mistake again and again: “This doesn’t look good, but maybe I shouldn’t judge. Maybe I should give it a try first.”
Maybe not.
I cannot count the times I’ve confronted people who preached one thing and did the opposite. It seems hypocrisy lurks everywhere and I’m sure I’ve been guilty of it in the past, but some people really have a nerve.
As if my mood wasn’t rotten enough, this Sunday is Easter Sunday for Greeks and other Christian Orthodox people around this forsaken world, so throughout this week (Holly week, but holy only in name) I am bombarded with TV dramas on the life of Christ. Thanks chief! That’s just what I needed. Franco Zeffirelli’s Jesus of Nazareth is shown for the gazillionth time and I feel like throwing my TV off the balcony.
Intolerance. A medium-sized word, perfectly rounded.
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