Though the moment happened a few days ago, I can’t remember anything past the phrase I’m going to correct you. The long autumn shadows created by the line of cottonwood trees behind Phil and the cloudless sky above us, yes, I remember those details. But, my heart plugged its ears after my “friend” decided to -without invitation- inject his perspective into my pain. This stolen liberty is a repeat occurrence with Phil and requires decisive action on my part. I cannot be friends with a man unwilling to honor my vulnerable confessions, especially the sloppy confessions. I feel attacked and judged, belittled and trapped by his words too often to ignore.

I hate these moments. I hate this feeling, the lingering belief if only I would’ve said x, y, and z. Oh sure, I have a few lessons to review once I’ve properly closed the book on this short friendship, but the looming task at hand is to tell Phil I will no longer pursue this friendship. Like most students at BSSM, he is facing his issues head-on. And, it’s not my destiny to suffer his ignorance or judgment.

I hope a day is coming where I am wiser than I am today. It’s not that Phil is unworthy of relationships or love. No one is. But, I hate having, what will ultimately be, a jarring conversation. Who among us wants to be told, “I don’t want to be friends with you?” It’s a form of rejection and I loathe rejection- I’m still fighting off the last few echos of pain from my last girlfriend. And, the very thought of entering into a meaningful discussion with Phil makes me ill. So, this is where I am, caught between inflicting pain or suffering it.

The tension is real.