The Fall of an Idol

Me: I no longer admire you.

The Formerly Admired One: Good. You may not realise it, but it's an awful lot of pressure to be put on a pedestal. After a while you get used to it, and start to hide your feet of clay. And dishonesty spells death for any relationship.

Me: I'm sorry. I didn't realise that my wide-eyed worship was causing you such discomfort. If I had known...

The Formerly Admired One: Oh no, it was a drug. Nice at first. And then, addictive. You know once you're addicted you tend to do anything to get your fix.

Me: Yeah, I guess. I wonder why I do it.

The Formerly Admired One: You want these qualities in yourself. You don't see them. So you fix on an object and project all the qualities you want. It doesn't matter whether they have them or not. You tend to explain away and rationalise deficiencies and bad behaviour. Until suddenly there is one so big that not even your denial will ignore it. And then it all comes crashing down.

Me: Every single time.

The Formerly Admired One: I'm curious. What was it with me?

Me: You mean you really don't know?

The Formerly Admired One: No. I can't think of anything sufficiently cataclysmic.

Me: It was your book. The rough draft that you gave me. I realised you were angry and hurt from the divorce but you were the one who always took the high road. But you were downright mean. And racist. And superior about everyone or everything. I know you'd made a point of stressing your education and pedigree before that. But I'd never realised that you looked down on people without the same.

The Formerly Admired One: I don't really. I take people as they are. That book you were reading, (I mean, I didn't end up publishing after all) was just therapy. Getting that person out of my system. A free-write so to speak. Only our friends could read the worst parts of us and not take it seriously. Only our friends could continue to love us despite it all.

Me: I guess I felt attacked.

The Formerly Admired One: If I was attacking you, I would have never given you that book to read.

Me: I should have thought. But I couldn't edit it. I just couldn't bring myself to deal with it. Stuff like that should be left within the pages of a journal, not for public consumption. No, not even a blog.

The Formerly Admired One: I guess I trusted too much to your wholehearted acceptance of me, no matter what. And that's stupid. No one loves us like that. Especially not our fans.

Me: So I'm a "fan", am I?

The Formerly Admired One: Does that offend you?

Me: I thought I was a friend.

The Formerly Admired One: Friends are more equal. And they can take the good with the bad.

Me: This just gets better and better.

The Formerly Admired One: Yes, I suppose it does.

Me: You never said goodbye.

The Formerly Admired One: Is that what all this is about? Well, goodbye, then. Goodbye.