The Sting of Friendship

We often spoke about something mindless—writing—and how it affected us. First, it was one story, then another, and pretty soon, we were always communicating via phone and computer to work through stories we've read and are writing. We also used each other's critical eyes while we were at it. 

That's why I couldn't believe it when it happened What he'd gone and said to me had crossed a boundary.

My legs wobbled, and my heart beat into my ears as my breath stressed through my windpipe on its trip to my starved-for-oxygen lungs. It happened, but I wanted it to be untrue. Nothing could change it; one of my inner circle friends had betrayed me. I only have three good friends; it came on like a hornet's sting. 

It was the sting of friendship. It hurt me like the sting of a hornet that punctured the surface, and part of its stinger remained lodged inside me.

I cried for days—like a baby—knowing there was nothing I could've done differently. The words gave me nothing to do and nowhere to go. Once those words hit my ears, my stomach and mouth let loose, releasing a massive gasp of air as I shook.

Leaving a message in voice mail is such a juvenile thing to do. Este hombre no tenia huevos a decirme a mi cara. No señor, ese mei puso las palabras en un mensaje con voz a text. Seguro en este momento que ya no tiene huevos!

“But this guy has no balls since he couldn't tell me to my face or, in this case, to my ears. No, sir, this guy put those words in a message—voice to text.”  

I counsel people and work with them through bumps in the road of their life stories as they unfold. I charge a lot of money to counsel, but I offered to help him for free because we're friends.

He read my gracious offer to listen to and help him, and I told him I was there for him if he needed someone to talk to. He got that, and from that, he saw a reason for me wanting to start something sexual with him. Now, that was a giant leap.

His response drew a line in the sand that allowed his comfort zone to be soothed. His diction, delivery, and thought processes were skewed because of a relationship in which he felt platonic friends who went further than that would affect the relationship he and I had. Once bitten twice shy is his angle.

Consider an acquaintance of mine expressing contempt towards me regarding a situation in which my willingness to assist him in times of need was retracted due to an unidentified stupid matter utterly unrelated to me. Despite this, he believed insulting me and being impolite and obnoxious were acceptable. I wracked my brain, wondering how he could have thought that sh*t about me. “However, you believe I am losing control if we discuss anything but writing; doing so would indicate that I want intimacy with you? What?”

There’s the sting of friendship that pricked me. His three short words, “F*ck you, Lucy! and continuing with, "If you don’t know that, you're nuts—and I shouldn’t have to tell you this, Lucy, or even say anything about this,"—apparently, I should have known that already.

Frustrated and in disbelief, I broke into a sweat. The beads dripped down my face and reddened it. A sucker punch to the gut; I collapsed where I stood. It was an eye-opener—a world of many moments rolled into one as they culminated into one big sting. "I took offence to such words. I've never said them to anyone in my life, nor did I give anyone a reason to tell them to me. The shock of such a good friend saying something so horrible stung me."

The more I thought about things, the more I knew I needed to forgive to move forward in peace. After a short time, I did. I didn’t attack or resort to saying anything mean or nasty to him. But, I did question—why? I never did anything more than offer support. He claimed, "Women should stick with women, and men should stick with men regarding personal matters in relationships; otherwise, one of the other, or both, are potentially f*cking up their marriage."

My marriage has no bearing on what I offered to him, and I certainly don’t think of romance when I think of the people I work with in writing. We are friends—at least, I thought we were.

"I have many good male friends, and my husband has no problem with them. I pondered why someone would say those words to me, and I was at a loss."

"It is true. Once someone gets closer to the top of a friendship, they grow more cutthroat because they know the other person's nuances and how to jab a knife into the softest spot of their back. Friends tell friends stuff. It’s called relationship building. Everyone does it; it is a natural habit of healthy human nature—plain and simple."

I found a passionate writer who- like me—in that regard—no longer cared about anything I did or said. I wrote, saying, "I don’t deserve these words. And I counsel people in my real-life job. The assumption that men and women share parts of their lives leads to marriage deterioration—which is such a giant leap that I don’t know how he got there with everything we’ve done together—was absurd."

He misjudged me, that’s for sure. He is not my type. His intellect is intriguing, but not enough to make me think of him on any terms other than friends, no matter what.

"But what put the icing on the cake for me was his thoughts about me being a woman who was incapable of a relationship with a man who had problems and needed some support."

Christians weren’t supposed to assume or judge anyone.

Matthew 7:1: "Do not judge, lest you be judged." He shouldn't judge, and he won't be judged. Judge not him; I will not be judged. We shall not judge, lest we be judged.

Don't condemn others, and God won't condemn you, right?

"Yet, there I was, being judged and having no say in the distance he put into our relationship, which is why now. I struggled with whether I even wanted any kind of friendship anymore. Friends don't say those words to one another." Am I right? A great friend is difficult to come by, but too much drama is too much.

I’m a chick, and I don’t have that much drama. Geez!

"Friendship is fickle, and the participants are merely "players." One of the players, who is ultimately off base on this one, is now in control of ours."

My job is to challenge—to accept people where they are in their journey, even if it breaks me all to hell.

Some people pushed people away. Many things in their lives are going wrong, and they are trapped. "In my case, I was no longer willing to have men walk all over me and say inappropriate things to me, allowing them to think it was okay and that they could."

"Words are powerful and hurtful; they stung like an elastic band snapped across the skin. Personal or professional relationships never allow for that kind of language. And if they do, I'd say, 'Rethink your relationship.' But to sting like a hornet—that is a brutal sting. It is calculated and aggressive." 

It's not because—let me tell everyone—boys and men know more about these things.

I can assure him. I don’t offer help without considering whether I can handle it first.

"Sorry, you think about everything that way and believe everyone is searching to get something from him, causing him to lash out at friends; I remain helpless."

It's lonely in the world when a person has too many faces.

Regardless, I didn't deserve, "F*ck you, Lucy!"

"It never occurred to me that you were one of them. 'You know those guys who tell people to F*ck You? But profess to be Christian good guys.'" 

I  knew I didn’t deserve that, for heaven’s sake. “But the jury’s still out. We’re in a silent phase again. Since you’ve gone AWOL.”