.223 caliber bullet necklace, Courtesy: Urbanice.com (2020)

Delete my number! And don’t ever mention my name! Selfish! I don’t need friends like you! Also, delete my number! Sigh, I heard that when you said it the first time. Okay, grab a cup y’all, we’ve got a story. Major tea, for once. Okay I kid, plain tea. So once upon a fine Eid, when I was laying down to sleep at night, I got a call from this girl. Let’s call her, S. Now S and I were once firm friends. She had shared some things, I had shared some things. The world was unfair. We were in agreement. We didn’t talk every day but when we met, it was just like old times. So S calls me to tell me, well if I’m being accurate here, it was shouting, that I had hurt her when I stopped interacting with her. And how vulnerable she was when I chose to do that. Mark you, this was months after I had stopped speaking to sis.

Now I have a thing about picking calls after 7 p.m. If you’re an acquaintance, forget about it. Oh, and there’s this breed of men who think you’d be predisposed to speaking more softly at night? Honey, please. I don’t hang around at night, and I don’t speak at night. Unless you pay my bills or we’re confidantes. Not friends, not acquaintances, great friends – my confidantes. Now back to S, I debated picking that call because she no longer fit my category of after 7 p.m calls, but the lateness of the hour spooked me. It could be anything. I’ll rewind.

Once upon a few months back, a good friend called me to tell me private news about my life. That I had not shared with her. And asked me whether it was true. It was not, it was me speaking out loud about my plans, and someone taking that as tea. But I don’t speak out loud, especially not about my plans, except with my nearest and dearest. And because I keep very few of those around me, I knew exactly whom to call. S. But S wasn’t picking my calls. And the next thing I hear, she’s on death’s door. Nothing matters then. Or I hoped, nothing mattered- certainly not anger nor vengeance, my old friends. I dropped everything inside me and committed to be there during this episode. But I overestimated myself. When she got out, I struggled to keep quiet. But S was just from hospital, and recovering from a life threatening illness. Between you and me, I would have made that call 2 years ago. But 2019, man, this was my year of transformation. We’re talking about a new woman, here. We no longer rant. We stew on it, we sleep on things, then we make a move. A week later, I was ready to make a move. Classy, non-confrontational. But sis was still not in the best of health. So what could we do, but pull back and slow down our interactions. I couldn’t pretend anymore. And God knows I tried.

A month passes by and sis calls me. In good health. Inquiring why I had stopped interacting with her. And by then, I was over it. But you asked, so I’ll tell you. S, I stopped interacting with you when I heard my private affairs on the streets. Shared by my enemies. And what was the response? I’m sorry, I might have shared, but I’m not sure. And if I did it, it was shared innocently. I wish I was kidding. Because those were the exact words thrown back at me. I was in disbelief. Really, S? You mean you can’t even remember if you said it? That is how casually you carry my affairs? Who needs enemies with friends like these.

You know, the funniest thing is that I can actually believe S’s assertion that if she  ever talked about my affairs, it was said very innocently. I have no doubt, sis. But when you can’t even remember what you said, when you shamelessly admit that you couldn’t even remember if you talked about me? You might have, but you couldn’t remember if you aired my private business in front of people who are not my friends? People who have no qualms about spreading my private thoughts like it’s hot off the press? That’s not it sis. This is where we diverge. You see, I would remember. And I don’t have the best memory. You know why, because I don’t gossip about you. Simple. What you talk about, what you think out loud, what you confide, stays with me. Your story, your identity. It stays. Because those are your affairs. The same way my affairs are for myself, my family, my confidantes. My triumphs, my losses, my dreams, my fears, my plans – I don’t need to tell you that those should always remain private.

Now friendship is tricky and means different things for different people. I will tell you that my friends are my second family on this earth. I go all out for my friends, I’ll do anything for you, I will probably forgive whatever nonsense you pull out, just please don’t betray me. That is my line. I will forgive you, and I will forget you. It’s called self-preservation. I’ve been down this road. I can’t do this again. No way will you remain my friend if my name, and my affairs are not safe with you.

I must admit it was a bit nostalgic to hear someone else shouting. I was once a shouter, you see. Until I decided that I will never allow anyone to have that much control over me. Those good old days when everything was black and white? Nah. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still black and white. You just no longer have a seat at my table to hear that distinction.

Now, I must say that throughout this entire saga, I never heard one apology from S. And no, I did not shout nor confront S. I’ll tell you what confrontation is. It is to call someone at night to name call them. It is to trivialize their pain. And to accuse them of exaggerating their personal boundaries. It is to purposely fail to share your thoughts and feelings when an opinion is sought from you. It is to dredge up painful memories, and call them out using hurtful and defining labels such as selfish. It is gossiping about them, and sharing their confidences with people who are not in their circle. It is projecting your failings upon them, and expecting them to take your fall. But it goes beyond confrontation. It’s also called abuse.

You see, S, I know the difference between speculation and when someone is repeating my private thoughts. I know what I talk about and what I keep to myself – so when I hear my thoughts out on these streets, you bet I know exactly what is going on. Don’t ask me how sure I am. You revealed yourself. I’ve been down this road before. And I know how this story ends. My ranting days, sis, they’re long over. What I will do is cut my losses and run. You know, if you hadn’t asked me, I would probably never have told you. I had already closed that chapter, and was done. I will not keep a friend who slaughters me behind my back. If you don’t understand the meaning of friendship, if you can’t apologize for your mistakes, I don’t need you.

I’m sorry I hurt you by stopping to interact with you. Honestly, I am, because you are probably going through the hurt that I went through when I found out. I’m sorry that I don’t know how to pretend when someone betrays me. I’m sorry that I’m not a liar. I’m sorry that I no longer consider you a friend of mine. I’m sorry that I closed that chapter without telling you. Without defining it for you. And I’m not mad that you called me to rant and abuse me. Okay, I was irritated that you dragged me from a looming sleep cycle, but honestly, I’m not mad. Just as I told you, I’m over it.

Having said all that, I will say that I was really disappointed in S. Because I liked this girl – I thought we had a similar outlook on life. We had similar personalities. I thought we understood each other. When I first heard what she did, I remember walking out of work to have a moment. I couldn’t breathe. You never imagine that a close confidante, that she had then become, would end up betraying you, and so casually at that. But I can’t get over a betrayal, especially when there is a high likelihood of the same reoccurring. So please go ahead, and delete my number. I won’t. Deleting doesn’t do much, in case you’re wondering. Do you see me calling you? Exactly, the battle is all mental. And no, your name never comes up in any of my stories- imagine that, it’s actually possible to keep your friend’s affairs private, however innocent. I won’t ask you to keep mine private, I will tell you that what you do, and say, you will get back tenfold. It’s the cardinal rule to life.

Watch yourself – your words are bullets, and your mouth’s a gun. And sis, keep better friends.