“That’s cool,” I said, as if what he’d said was no big deal. When I questioned her way of going about it, she said to me, “you seem to be just fine, like you’re moving on, but it seems like she needs a friend.” Filled with rage and wanting to cry, I said, “Oh, OK, I get it now. Being the least gossipy of the gossipers, I had been irked recently when one of the members accused me, in a subtle and perhaps unaware way, of causing her problems for having gossiped.Enraged from my conversation with R., I sent an email to P., one of the members of my group, copying A. In it, I accused her of being as gossipy as other gossipers.
This was not done very nicely, as you might imagine.
The response to this email was very unified and : you’ve ruined relationships, don’t you dare come to my party, don’t you dare come back to the group.
I knew I was wrong, but still, I felt surrounded by moms who don’t get why boys throw balls through windows.
Right after my wife and I separated, my male friend J.
told me, over a beer, without any prompting, the two of us not looking each other in the eyes, that he was on my side not hers, and that none of the ways in which I was likely to fuck up in the impending months was going to change that. was acquainted with my wife and liked her, but had both a friendship and a professional relationship with me, and while he would be cordial with her when he saw her, he wasn’t going to do her any favors.
Martin's Press, and the travel guide, The Artichoke Trail.