Betrayal

Imagine if you will a world where no one tells the truth.

No, this entry is not about the Bush Administration. This entry is about a horse I can't bring myself to let die.

In life, if we are lucky, there are a handful of friends that we can count on take care of us.

I haven't always been that friend.

When a close friend of mine got married I did everything I could to miss the wedding. But, no matter how hard I dug my heels she yanked even harder. So, I went to the wedding even though I didn't think she was marrying the right guy. I didn't have the courage to tell her that. Not before the marriage, a few years after the marriage I finally told her how I felt about her husband.

She was rightfully pissed. If I recall correctly she slammed the phone in my ear. I don't blame her. I didn't speak to her for two years after that and you know what happened?

Out of the blue she called me and said, "I can understand why you didn't want me to marry XX. Whenever you and I talked I was always telling you about the fights we had or whatever shitty thing XX had done. I never told you any of the good things. I completely understand why you didn't like him.'

That is friendship. Being able to get pissed, cool down, re-evaluate, hold out your had again and say, "I understand."

The same goes for a another friend who once accused me of sharing an embarrassing secret. I didn't do it, and I knew who had. When I told said friend the identity of the blabbermouth she vehemently responded,

"She wouldn't do that . . SHE'S my best friend."

It felt as if I'd been slapped. I stood up and walked her to the front door. I said, "I'm sorry that you feel that way." I opened the door, and I didn't see her for five years.

Then one day, four years later, out of the blue, she showed up at my front door. She said, "This won't take long. Remember when I accused you of telling WW about WW?"

Me, "Yes, I think that was the last time we talked."

Her, "Well, I'm hear to tell you I'm sorry. I recently found out it was who you said it was."

I was shocked. I was 18 when T showed up at my door to apologize . It was the first time in my life that a peer had said to me, "What I did was shitty and wrong and I'm very sorry."

She taught me a lot in that one moment.

Our friendship was beyond the point of no return, but I've always respected T for having the stones to own up to that when the average teen would probably have kept such a thing to herself.

I've been thinking about these two events recently because there is just one thing I've never really gotten over. If you've read the early entries of this blog you know my ex-husband is gay. I didn't know when I married him. In fact, I didn't know until we'd been married for five years.

What I also didn't know was that a friend of mine knew years befoe I did. She and I had met in my dorm room when I was a freshman. We used to go out, drink and fall asleep in each other's bed. I thought we were close. Near the end of my freshman year she came out to me. She made such a big deal about it that when she finally said, "I'm a lesbian" I was relieved. She was so tense I thought she was about to tell me she was in the witness protection plan.

My response to her coming out was, "Oh, okay." It was fairly understated, and I wasn't scandalized or clutching my pearls. I really didn't care. Jen was still the same Jen she'd been five minutes prior to coming out.

About six months after this admission I start hanging out with J. We'd all go out in groups, and I'd occasionally find Jen and J huddled together in the corner of the bar. In hindsight I can admit they always looked busted. I never knew what they were talking about, but it seemed pretty intense. I never stuck my nose in it. I just figured they were friends, too.

I distinctly remember a moment when Jen turned to me and asked, "What do you think about a woman in a committed heterosexual relationship sleeping with other women."

Me, "Well, does the husband know?"
Jen, "I don't think so."
Me, "If the husband doesn't know then it's cheating. I don't care if she's sleeping with another man or another woman. That's cheating."
Jen, "Well, what if all of the people involved know?"
Me, "Well that's between them I guess."

Pause . . .

Me, "Jen, you don't want to sleep with me do you?"
Her, laughing . . . relieved, "NO . . . I was just posing a question."

We were Women's and Gender Studies girls so these kinds of conversations weren't all that bizarre for me. After J and I split up Jen called me and my heart hit he floor. I said to her,

"Oh Jen, honey, I can't be friends with you."

Her, "What?"

Me, "You knew, you knew what Jason was up to all that time. You should have told me. I wouldn't have married him. I wouldn't have gotten sick."

Her, "Oh Melissa . . . "

Me, "Oh don't worry, it's nothing that will kill me . . . "

Yeah, I'm still pissed because on top of having had to deal with my husband's betrayal I also had to deal with my friend's betrayal.

I've tried to justify her behavior. Is there a gay code that I don't know? Do you foresake your straight friend, and protect your closeted friend because you understand the pain of living a closeted life?

I really don't know.

I can tell you that if I was certain my brother's partner was playing the field I would call Carlos up and say, "Carlos child, you in trouble!" He'd probably be pissed at me, and he might not even believe me, but you can bet your ass I'd tell him what's going on. I love my brother and I want what is best for him. Or, if I knew my friend M's fiance was creeping around I'd let her know. That's what you do when you care for someone. You do your best to protect them from getting hurt.

So I guess it was that simple: Jennifer was never really my friend.