See No Evil, Hear No Evil

Well, well, well… whaddya know… I am always amazed when I realise how blinded I am by my feelings about people, sometimes. I just can’t see any wrong-doing in them, until it’s so blatant that it smacks me right in the face. And then, there is no denying it. And there is no coming back.

So, I went to Naomi’s place, last Wednesday, to confront her about what happened on New Year’s Eve. Of course, it didn’t go according to my plan to be calm and collected. Of course, there was screaming and crying (I cry when I get emotional, whether it’s for positive or negative reasons), but the gist of it is that Naomi rejected any responsibility, did not provide any apology whatsoever and proceeded in manipulating events and facts to her own advantage, trying to shift the focus from her behaviour to me, my principles and how I lead my life. Trying to dump what happened on my shoulders, saying it was my problem that I was hurt, not hers, that I shouldn’t have been hurt in the first place. Sure, if I hadn’t given a damn about her, I wouldn’t have been so hurt. She said she felt under pressure from me. Yes because, you see, unlike her (not!), I have this overbearing presence and there’s no way she could have freely expressed her opinion with me. Right. For the record, I don’t recall any instance when she has refrained to express her views with me. The interesting thing is that this is the kind of stuff she said of another friend she had and that she lost, Robyn.
She said I treated her like she was my boyfriend. When I retorted that I treated her like she was part of my family, she said that was exactly the problem.

Ah. Too bad that over the last three hears, she, not I, was the one who would tell to anyone who would listen how we were like family, how we were like sisters. So: as long as I pay for her, as long as I’m there to pick up her pieces, then I am family. As soon as it is time to show some consideration, or even simple manners and respect, then I am not deserving of that, as I am not family. A little too convenient, I reckon.

And that’s when I stopped arguing, because what was the point? I took note of what she had just said and understood that there was nothing I could say or do to make her see. So I sat back and watched her. I really watched her. And I saw everything. How she was bending everything that has happened in the three years of our friendship to justify herself. How she was trying time and again to make me feel bad, like I was at fault, like I had to change. How in denial of herself she is. She said that she has always felt forced to fit my “narrow paths” and that I should see a counsellor. She said she was free and I was in a cage. Yes, she is free to spiral down in a pit of alcohol, destitution and lack of self-respect, jumping from one stranger to the next, exposing herself to all sorts of diseases, alienating anything and anyone good that happens in her life, because she is an artiste, you see, and she’d rather starve than give up wine and cigarettes, or roll her sleeves up and do what’s necessary to support herself like everybody else. She can keep that “freedom”.

I could have been really nasty to her, throwing all that to her face, telling her what her other so-called “close friend” says about her behind her back, the mildest word being “slut”. Making her see the shackles she has forged for her hands and feet, made of booze, constant dependence from other people for her own daily survival, and need of any man’s attention to feel validated. It would have been so easy… but why should I have done that? She is already on the brink of an abyss, daily destroying her life with her own hands, I certainly will not be the one who pushes her over the edge.

Some may argue that what happened on New Year’s Eve is not enough to break a friendship over… and, true, that specific case is not… but truth is that it’s been piling up since the beginning. It’s not the first time she has behaved like that, but I was blinded, as I said, and didn’t consciously make the connection (I probably did connect the two things subconsciously, or I wouldn’t have been so hurt, I guess), I own that as my mistake…

The irony is that she brought it up again herself, to corroborate her position… I had completely forgotten about it! The very first time it happened, when I was only newly come from Italy and did not have my bearings very well, yet. We went out to a hotel… and she disappeared to follow a guy she liked to another hotel, leaving me there on my own with people I did not know, did not understand very well, in a place I was not familiar with, not knowing where she had gone to or how to get there. I finally managed to find her again, only because I was lucky enough that one of my neighbours happened to work as a bouncer at that first hotel and he could direct me to where she had probably gone, but not before I was completely distressed and disoriented.

She has no understanding of the fact that looking out for each other is what friends do. That you cannot drop friends like that and then expect them to be there for you again, when you need them. That is why she has never had any real female close friends before me, why she has lost my friendship now, and why she probably won’t have any close female friends in the future.
Now I can see the pattern, and certainly I don’t want to expose myself to it again, as it is bound to happen again, since she doesn’t see how her behaviour is utterly disrespectful, uncaring, and unacceptable.

So I’ll just pull out and since she feels she doesn’t owe me an apology, I don’t feel I owe her an explanation for doing so.
I don’t know… maybe we are both blinded, me by my feelings, she by her denial. At least, I occasionally get to see… but I’m not sure how good that is, as the pain is certainly excruciating. However, I’ve been through worse and come out to the other side, stronger. This is like fresh water on my skin, in comparison.

One thing I have finally understood and must commit to memory for future reference: I must learn to really observe people’s behaviour, unbiased by my affection for them, to hear what they are really saying behind their words, be detached enough to distinguish between the façade and what’s behind the curtains… and see when they match and when they don’t. Especially when they don’t.