Campfyre Stories

That I am anything less than a loyal friend.

When people I care about are wronged, I tend to take on their anger.  Whether you want to call it empathy or something else, I frankly, don’t care, but to me it’s loyalty.  When my friends are treated badly, I feel the emotions and I feel them incredibly strongly.  It’s possible that this is why people don’t tell me things - because they know it will set me off and I will spend too long ranting and raving and screaming and yelling.

I did that tonight.  In the interest of attempting to be a better person than some, I will decline to name names and point fingers.

(Comment moderation is on.)

So I guess I’m kind of a hypocrite

When I was 16 years old, I did the only thing in my life that I am ashamed of.  As of an hour ago, one person knows this secret.  Prior to that I assumed it was something I would take to my grave.  As it stands now, maybe there is one other person I will divulge this to, because he needs to know…  and if it comes to that, maybe one other person will literally need to know this, but that’s where it ends.

You see, I’m not big on shame and I’m not really a believer in regret, but this thing that I did…  or rather, this lie that I told is one that I told to those closest to me.  It caused physical and emotional harm to one person and it caused me to lose a very important and good friendship.  My guilt for this will remain with me for the rest of my life.  It is, by far, the most horrible thing I have ever done.

So why am I a hypocrite?  Because part of what has made me violently angry is that someone else has done this exact same thing to someone that I care about.  Not only do I care about him, I don’t think I realized how much I care about him and I know that he isn’t aware of it.  Sometimes it comes as a shock to you, how deep your feelings are for people…  especially for people for whom you define within a certain measure of frivolity.

But I still feel justified

Because it’s not just one of my friends who is being affected by this situation…  and the other one brings up feelings that I haven’t shared with too many other people.  It’s hard to hear anyone talk about how they’re still wrapped up in their last relationship and it’s even harder when it appears that the ex is taking complete advantage of them.

When someone I care about is called selfish for no other reason than he is trying to take care of himself, I have to question the motives of the person pointing the finger.  Is it more selfish to take care of yourself, or to assume that others should put YOUR needs ahead of theirs?  Don’t answer that, it’s rhetorical, I already know what the right answer is…  most grown-ups know that the answer is that you cannot take care of anyone unless you are taking care of yourself first and foremost.

In passing judgement

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a judgemental person…  that first impressions mean a LOT to me.  I’ll also be the first to admit that, while I do, in fact, have a problem with women as a gender, I have a serious problem with new and ex girlfriends as a subset of the gender.  With a handful of exceptions (*winks* at the girls who BETTER know who they are ), they see me as a threat, and I see them as destroying whatever friendships I have forged in the circle.  The vast majority of the exceptions are the ones who don’t have a whole lot of women friends, who prefer the company of men, and don’t feel threatened by the girl who is platonic with, not only her boyfriend, but all the other guys in the group - even if they flirt.

I can see jealousy.  I can see when the exes look at me as some kind of encroacher on their territory (even though they long-since gave up their claim).  When the fact don’t jibe, it becomes even more clear.  When my name comes up in the course of a nasty story…  let’s just say I don’t need numbers to connect the dots.

I spend a lot of time holding my tongue.  I spend a LOT of time *not* actually saying what I think because I know that it will cause pain when I wield my caustic tongue and my biting sarcasm, or worse, my assessments of any situation.  If I don’t like someone, they will likely NEVER know it, until they wrong me, or someone I care for…  or several someones I care for.

On raging bitches

And then the internet drama comes into play…  because it’s an easy game to play and one that doesn’t require much thought or effort.  It’s ridiculously easy to slander and hurt and maim someone in cyberspace, but I prefer to take the high road.  I prefer to not point fingers, to not provide links and to only make things clear to those involved.  Frankly, it’s only those who matter who need to hear the truth because those who don’t matter aren’t going to care enough to LEARN the truth.  (I thank the gods that I did not have this tool at my disposal when I was 16 years old, because I, too, would have used it.)

Facts are facts, and justification of regrettable actions will not change the facts themselves.  When your story is full of holes that can be countered by people who were there and remember, when your own story changed over time, it becomes obvious of the intention to do nothing more than hurt someone else.  Although, I do know that there’s more than just wanting to hurt someone…  it’s about justifying your own actions…  it’s about convincing yourself that you’re a better person than to do that to someone you love.

But you’re not…  you’re a worse person for lying about something that you chose, because you regret the choice.  And, darling, though you may think it’s because I don’t like you (and I don’t), it’s not.  It’s because I was there, and I remember what led up to it, and I remember facts that you got wrong, and, once upon a time, I did the same thing you’re doing… 

And I know, that in the long run, the real pain isn’t going to go to the one you blame, it’s going to be the pain and guilt that eats away at you inside…  long after this current fling is gone..  for the rest of your life you’ll wish you hadn’t lied…  that you had been a better person for admitting the truth instead of trying to convince yourself of something that your heart will never actually believe.

:-/ 

And after all of my raging and all of my anger (and even, maybe, a measure of crying for myself and for someone who is losing the most out of this) what I really feel is pity.  I feel sorry for her.  He will survive, though it make take some tears and pain…  and He will survive, though he may question himself (and I worry what the search engines will turn up)…  but She will suffer, and it’s not a curse.  First she’ll convince herself that her story was true, and then, somewhere along the line, she’ll remember…  and she’ll wonder why she did it, and she’ll know that it’s far too late to try to undo it, and it will eat at her…  and it will never go away.

And there is a little compassion in me…  but mostly just pity…  and some of the rage, well, it’s directed at myself.

~FG };^>