Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Bad.

I make bad choices.

Not bad, like the kind your parents warn you about. But bad, like I acknowledge that it’s a bad choice yet I continue to choose it.

I’m trying to make this as anonymous as possible.

I have a friend ( C, for those of you who follow this closely) and C makes horrible choices. Bad choices that he knows are bad and I know are bad. I try really hard to be a friend that is there unconditionally but sometimes I get so fed up with being there and doing constant damage control and cleaning up huge messes. Sometimes, I get fed up with being there in the middle of the night no matter what.

It’s these times that the tables are turned. It’s these time when suddenly; it is ME making bad choices. Because, instead of putting my foot down or being assertive or showing any kind of sign that I actually possess a backbone, I continue to take these phone calls. Instead of shouting, “WHY DON’T YOU JUST LISTEN TO ME FOR ONCE”, I put on the sensitive, nurturing teacher voice and I deal with his hundreds of issues.

Now don’t get me wrong, I absolutely sit there and see his name on my phone and think to myself “Man, I shouldn’t answer that”. I should let him be an adult and deal with this crap on his own. But I just can’t do it. I always pick up and I always deal with it because I’m a good friend and that’s what a good friend does, right?

Wrong.

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