A friend in need

Wednesday, 2 December 2015

Someone I was very close with in high school recently had her ex say some super shitty stuff to her. She posted on FB for some positive feedback because it was the kind of thing that is hard to shake off from someone who shared your bed and commingled DNA.

Though we had something of a falling out once that hurt me much more than she would believe, I still remember the other parts. I came to her aid with, I think, the right words. Damning the speaker without any attack just on the fact that one must be ugly, torn, inside to say something like that. Other friends thought I was on the right track, likes and all, and there were many there to ameliorate in similar ways.

Thing is… I said entirely similar super shitty stuff about one of her current and continuing—unlike me—best friends here on these pages. Namely, I called the woman a whore.

I am the same person who said both things. Less angry, but nothing essentially different and if I have not pulled the piece, I have not recanted and stand by what I said, such as it is; was.

Bothered me. Bothered me quite a lot. Lasted all of two minutes.

Whatever else I am, harsh, nasty, angry. I never once encouraged, advised, or tried to cajole any friend, male or female, to duplicity. To cheat. To lie. To revenge. I hate it as much in the men I would be friends to as I do in the women who have shared my bed. Never.

Maybe there was some ugliness in me that chose that word when I used it. My moral compass continues to point to it being in the right territory no matter what kicked it out of me.

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