Sometimes your friends hate people. Sometimes people hate your friends. Sometimes your friends hate you. Sometimes, you hate your friends. I think, however, the worst kind of ‘friend-hate’ is when your friends hate each other, and you’re stuck in between them. I love my friends. I (sometimes) cherish my friends. They don’t see it, or know it very well, but I really, really appreciate my friends. I don’t show it much, but every single day I hate myself for taking my friends for granted because I’m such a failure at almost everything I do (or want to do) and sometimes it’s just hard. It’s hard to stand on the fence when people are so angry and so explosive and so … well, contagious. It’s hard, I admit it. I have been influenced one too many times when getting caught up in any fight, much less this fight. And I get it, you know? To err is human; to forgive is divine, yadda yada. But that doesn’t make me hate myself any less for it. I mean, I’m supposed to play referee but I’m standing on the bleachers. How is that fair, for anyone really?

            Recently, well, not that recent, it was a few months ago, around May? June? I think, and two of my really good friends got into a huge row, and one of them, was and still is my best friends since I was well, basically 10 years old. We’ve been through thick and thin and even if we didn’t exactly understood each other 100% and we got into fights and we rub each other the wrong way a lot, we were still best friends and we accepted that. We understood that we would never be really able to get the other that well and we’re okay with that. We’re cool with that. That’s how we roll. The other was a newer friend, not until the end of high school that I got closer to. He was explosive and loud and opinionated and annoying, but I tolerated it and eventually showed his good sides to her and they also became friends and even better friends than I was in the sense that they understood each other in ways that I couldn’t because they had their lives and family problems and studying stress that they related to and I couldn’t. I was happy about it; ecstatic, even. Sometimes, their strong personalities can be arduous and strenuous and just plain exhausting. And sometimes, I needed a break from that to chill, and find my center and keep myself level when dealing with them.

            Then this crazy drama was thrown in when she had a boyfriend and his best friend was upset that she didn’t tell me us, because she had her own strong personality and it was just a roller coaster all the way until we were graduated and done with the exams and everything and finally things settled down and we were off to our colleges and blah bla and things settled. Ironically, they were both at the same college and so obviously they were going to see each other a lot. I was secretly thankful for the fact that I didn’t have to see them often anymore because I just couldn’t handle it. I was childish and selfish and still very much narrow-minded and unbelievably easily influenced, so I was glad that I didn’t have to deal with it and well, grow up in a sense.

            Of course, things got heated between them rather easily but I didn’t think much into it because well, because that was them. They had strong personalities and being the way they were evidently clashes were bound to happen. I just didn’t think ‘that’ would’ve happened. That fateful day.

Side note: I’ve been repeating this so many times I’m sick of it, I just want to let this down and die away after I’m done. I will finish this, once and for all.

Okay, so apparently, they got into numerous mini rows and patience on both sides was wearing thin, not that there was much in the first place. They started making jabs at each other’s personal lives and testing the lines. A lot. They got into this huge fight and he left her at the parking lot (he refused to fetch her to the tuition in which they both went to). And that was when I got involved and for some reason I was really emotional at that time (I blame the hormones) and I called our teacher who knew all of us really well and we often participated with her charity events and she tried to help but he was just too bull-headed to stop and think about what he was doing.

So I tried to help and I couldn’t. I let him talk me out of talking to him. I did not want to fight with anyone. It was strenuous, it was hard. I was walking on a tightrope and one end was pulling way harder than that. And I let him pull and I fell down. I’m not proud of it, I regret that a lot, but it’s done, I can’t change anything. It’s over. Right so then she was kind of hurt because I was too afraid of losing anyone to actually confront the problem. It still scares me, to be honest. I hurt someone by not wanting to hurt anyone. I was an ass. I still am kind of an ass. I’m not proud of it. But I acknowledge it. I accept it and take it as a lesson. Sometimes, it’s better to fight for what’s right than do nothing to keep both friends because they both want to rip each other’s fucking throats out and one of them has a higher level of ferocity and you’re crazy so you let one of them push their way around into this and you get fuckedscrewed up in more ways than one. 

And so, there you have it. Your lesson. 

Fight for what’s right when they both want to rip each other’s fucking throats out and one of them has a higher level of ferocity rather than you let one of them push their way around into this and you get fucked up in more ways than one. 

Be careful. 

When you say you stay neutral, mean it. 

 

Love, 

Charley.

Who is fucked because someone now wants to ‘consider’ making up in the sense that he still thinks he did nothing fucking wrong. 

 

Advertisements

Author: charlinosaur

you don't need to know.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s