Tuesday, April 24, 2012

You Don't Say... Denial?

One day, Chris saw his brother eating their newly-bought cereal for breakfast. Chris had never seen any other cereal like that before; it was made of bits and pieces of different shapes appearing in different colors too. Others were lemony, and the other pieces were plummy or grapey in color. It was too fruity of a cereal to be exact. He laughs to himself seeing his little brother eat a 'zesty' cereal.

"What's that?" Chris approached his lil bro at their dining table.
"Mom bought us a new cereal! You should try it, it's so yummy," answered his brother.
"Nah-uhh. Those are too zesty and fruity. Only kids and crybabies eat that stuff."

Chris had completely, and quite permanently registered in his mind that that cereal was only for little kids, for all the boys and girls. He always knew he was a guy and had nearly promised to himself that he'd never, ever try that cereal.

Later that day his cousins of his little brother's age dropped by, and tried the cereal too. It kinda proved his judgement right: It was for kids.

The next morning, as surprising as a pop in the face, it just so happened that he had nothing to eat for breakfast. It seemed like the pancakes he had before that day were devoured by his cousins already, and that he was left with no other choice but to open that second box of their new fruity cereal that their mom had just bought, or he'd start his day without any nourishment in his stomach. He looked around the entire house and figured that his brother wasn't around; he probably went with his mom somewhere and dad was off to work. He was alone. When he was finally sure that no one could watch him, he took the box and poured some amount of it into his bowl.

In just 6 spoonfuls into his mouth, his bowl was already empty and Chris decided for another round of that cereal.
"It's not so bad I guess," Chris thought.

Just as Chris was taking the final spoonful of the fruity cereal into his mouth, he heard their door open and footsteps were heard. The voices of his brother and mother sounded the house, and as quick as he could, he kept away every evidence that would leave clues of him eating the fruity cereal he disliked the first day he saw it. He hurriedly cleaned up everything and didn't want anyone knowing that he gave the cereal a try, and more importantly, that he loved the freakin' fruity snack he said he wouldn't ever like.

Weeks went by, and Chris kinda got himself into a hiding-state. He didn't want to admit that he liked the taste of the freakin' cereal, but would feel so weak each time he saw the box and give in to eating it. Each time he ate it, he made sure he hid it from anyone. No one would know, no one should, he thought.

Chris is now in this insane habit of hiding this likeness of his towards the cereal; heck he doesn't even want to call it "likeness" yet. Sure, he keeps saying, "I don't like that freakin' cereal, I just have nothin' else to eat for breakfast, that's all!" ...but his actions suggest otherwise, don't you think? Why's he even denying his fondness? Because he almost swore he'd never find a liking to a stuff like that? Because he believed that it was only for kids? And because he didn't want to be 'one of them'? And now, he can't freakin' stop. He feels like he's in a difficult state, and only Chris himself knows about all these complexities.

The fact that he's struggling inside about actually getting quite addicted to this zestily fruity snack is merely indicative that Chris is in denial. He may continue hiding it from others, but he'll never be able to lie to himself.

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