On Being The Fool

A few days ago, if you'd asked me who Manti Te'o was, I would've been at a complete loss. I don't follow any sports at all, and have a rather strong distaste for organized sports. But I now know who he is, and I can't help but feel sorry for him. While it seems that we have absolutely nothing in common, we do.

We've both been played for fools.

At a very early age, I always felt very odd, both in appearance and in personality. I tried to embrace my quirkiness and make it lovable, but for as long as I can remember, I've always felt very strange compared to the general population. In high school, I watched as my peers became couples, and then became separate. I longed so much to be a part of this. I always felt like I was the sidelines of a dance, wanting to join in, but afraid of looking like a fool when everyone looked my way. Why was I there? Did I seriously think that I belonged? So, I played the goofy friend, but always fantasizing about someone who saw past all my insecurities and saw the beautiful woman I thought I could be.

My junior year, I was desperately lonely, and in an attempt to connect with anybody, I turned to the internet. I was searching for somebody, anybody to talk to. I didn't want to talk to anyone I knew. I wanted to talk to someone who didn't know anything about me- their opinion of me already colored by what others thought. I never thought I was starting down a very lonely and sad road. I connected with someone from Virginia and started talking. It was inconsequential conversation at first, but it was nice to try and see who I really was without the politics of high school affecting my personality.

Over the months, we talked more and more. I felt happy. Someone cared for me, for who I really was. All I knew about this person was that he was male, around my age, and lived south of Charlottesville. Because of my mother's concern for me, I told her that I'd met him at my summer job. I wish she'd have pushed harder into this whole relationship. Months and months went by, and suddenly he was talking of meeting in real life. We'd been talking on the phone a lot, and I felt that I pretty well knew him. I felt comfortable with meeting him. We met, and while there were little details that didn't match what he'd already told me, I allowed it to pass. I was just happy to have someone in my life that wanted me in theirs.

I won't go into great detail about what happened, but after a year or so, the truth about who this person was finally came to light. I was devastated. I had been played for a fool. My weakness had been seen and subsequently exploited. My loneliness was my undoing. I never understood why I was played for a fool, why I was the target for this person's cruel game. I do know that it took months, maybe even years to fully comprehend what had happened to me and to understand the repercussions. I was horrified that my parents knew. I begged them not to tell anyone what happened. I just wanted it all to go away. I was embarrassed that my loneliness lead to me looking so stupid. I wanted to hide all of this away.

Which brings me back to Manti. I cannot begin to express how my heart aches for him, if indeed he was unaware that he was being tricked. It's embarrassing, humiliating. I took a risk because of a fundamental human need- love. How cruel is it to exploit that need for your own amusement? Why, then, did he try to cover up what had happened? It seems all very simple to me. He felt no need to broadcast to the world that he'd been made a fool. You want to keep this heart ache private.

Leave him alone. Don't mock him. Don't mock me.