fictionalized consciousness

Recently, I've been getting to know a new friend. Mr D. In one of the many interesting conversations we've had, we touched upon the subject of past relationships. It started when a couple of months ago, when I found out where he worked, I mentioned this woman I'd had a crush on many years ago who worked there. Back then I suppose we didn't know each other well enough to have follow up questions to this odd piece of information that I'd offered, and so he didn't ask about it until a few nights ago.

-- Um... (he had the good grace to be hesitant and look a little sheepish as if he wasn't sure whether or not he should be asking questions like these) So you mentioned, a while back, that you had a crush on...
-- Doris.
-- The girl who...
-- Woman.
-- Woman?
-- Woman.
-- Okay... So you...
I thought it would be easier to just tell him than for him to stutter and stumble over the questions which I knew would inevitably just lead to the same story from me. So I told him.

-- It's funny, my ex-girlfriend was so disgusted that I had a crush on her. Doris, I mean.
-- Your ex-girlfriend... (he was surprised, of course)
-- Hahaha.

So I told him about Doris, who I'd see every weekend at the bar, and how she turned out to be friends with a future boss of mine. And I told him about q, who was (and will be) the only girlfriend I've ever had.

At the end of that, perhaps he thought it was only fair to share parts of his history, so he told me about the most significant relationship he's had. The funny thing is, it reminded me of Shu and the ex who broke his heart. It's the same old story always, isn't it, just different details, different specifics. Hmm.

Mr D has two blogs, one of which is fiction. It's dark and it seems violent, and it's a sort of biography-blog about the events that happen to a guy called Cameron. The parallel between fact and fiction is stunning. If you didn't know Mr D's back story, you'd think perhaps it's a twisted tale, not easy to stomach at all. Or perhaps I feel that way because I'm a typical girl who likes her romance and fantasy and all that. Hm.

It makes me wonder whether he realises the parallels, whether he sees the similarities. Perhaps this is his therapy. It's odd that one is inspired to write after much tragedy - although I must hasten to add that tragedy is relative-ish. But yes, the essence of his fiction lies in what happened to him, although twisted and strung out to the extremes.

I wonder what Mr D was like before all this shite happened.

God bless Mr D. And all the heartbroken people all over the world.