Why?
Why? Were you drunk? These are the two most common questions that I’ve been asked this week. The second question is simple to answer. No I was not drunk. Oh I’d love to have something to even partially blame for this horrendous act. Why? It’s not a romantic reason. I cannot claim to be in love and will not sully this situation with any more dishonesty.
“You just couldn’t stand to see me happy.” This could not be further from the truth. In my heart I know that I got myself into this mess trying to help. As they say, “the path to hell is paved with good intentions” I put myself in a position to end up where I am today. I disregarded Brett’s advice that they should not need my help. I wanted to be what he’d always been for me. The friend who smoothed out the wrinkles in a good relationship, the friend who talked to both sides and got them both to understand where the other was coming from. I don’t really know how that noble plan resulted in this, but I do know that I cannot and will not blame circumstances, liquor, or her. I should have stopped it from happening. What kind of friend, what kind of person is capable of disregarding the feelings of someone so dear? This is the question I’ve asked myself over and over again. This is the real question people want me to answer when they ask why. This is the real question they hope will be blunted by liquor. They clearly have to high an opinion of me.
One mistake. That’s what some of them call it. You’re a good person deep down, but you made a mistake. The guilt and the pain I feel makes me want to believe that is true. It is just so difficult for me to see. If I were a good person, if I had just made a mistake, wouldn’t I have been the one to tell him? Could a person be a larger hypocrite then I have been?
“This is probably the last time I’ll be here” Should I argue with that? Do I deserve to be friends with him anymore? After everything he’s done for me, everything he’s offered, every time he’s been there for me, do I deserve his friendship? I am starting to believe that I don’t. How many of my other friends feel the same way? How many of my friends hold similar feelings for me, but are unwilling for whatever reason to tell me about them? How many of my friends have long ago written me off as the horrible person I’ve just recently realized I am?
I guess it’s time for me to try and find some good in this. I guess it’s time for me to learn from this. From here on out I will endeavor to be a better person, from here on out I will endeavor to be a good person.