Also, with the drama. Some silly, some serious. Meh. Regardless, and having already thought out and explained this once at the butt crack of dawn today, here we go again. I have really good people. Long, long ago I realized (yes, high school was a long, long time ago) that I mostly end up attracted to and attracting a….type, if you will. I have super good taste, if I do say so myself, but most other people seem to think it’s an acquired taste when they see their own or a similar typeness in or painted onto another person. Much like how I cannot seem to get along with my brother in law – it’s because we’re deep down quite similar people. However, I try pretty hard not to be cruel, at least purposefully. I can be when I try, for sure, and I’m also quite sure I can be cruel without trying – but some things are too much. Like, say, knowing I JUST had a miscarriage and looking me dead in the eye at dinner and Christian side-hugging your wife (who you were unspeakably cruel to all weekend prior to this mess) and saying, “That’s okay. WE’LL have a baby,” when that wasn’t even the subject matter to begin with. I mean. Ew. We’re done here. Assholery of epic proportions. Wait, what was I saying?
Yes. Avoidance of cruelty. Seeking pleasure while avoiding pain. Sounds easy enough. But even predictable people can be unpredictable, especially if they’re feeling cruel. Which happens. I mean, meh, and all. I’m sure I’ve done it myself from time to time to a million times, if you ask the right people. There must be people out there who hate me with the fiery passion of a billion burning suns, but at that point wherein I figure this out, I tend to back away slowly, especially if I know them to be a cruel person to begin with. If I can figure that it’s not real cruelty…shit, I’m sorry, but I’m going to end up calling you out and learning something if I can. Which I have. Kind of. Mostly that I tend to expect a bit too much of most people. And that if I don’t spell out what I expect, there’s little possibility for modifying my own expectations in time to avoid a silly little meltdown. ‘saright. Catharsis can be good, in it’s proper time and placement. That’s what friends are for. I do appreciate it. What I expect is to be called out in turn for my own shortcomings. And I think my type might just enjoy that. If the spokes of my friendship wheel (the deal I seem to have struck in which most of my people don’t really like-like each other enough to want to form their own relationships with one another) want to not intersect, it’s fine. Honestly. Not in that FINE way, but really and truly fine. I’m very used to that type of dynamic. It’s definitely more fun for ME when they don’t mind being in the same place at the same time, but the fact that it’s been that way for many, many years with many, many different people is something I don’t need to adapt to now; it’s a very old familiar pattern. Relationships change, but people adapt. Some grow closer and more distant in cycles. Some are right there all along and more willing than others to roll eyes and poke gentle fun and make it an I’m-not-your-friend-but-we’re-her-friends truce. It’s obviously LESS fun for me when I can tell I’ve ruined someone else’s fun by forcing someone on someone else. So, I don’t – usually. Things like a wedding, or a birthday, or a crisis of faith or love or hope are suitable occasions in my book to request the presence of multiple cogs in a support system simultaneously. Like, our wedding party had to be one of the most hilarious gatherings of people I’ve ever seen. People I’ve loved for YEARS but hated each other all along smiled for pictures, were happy for me and Mike, and partied their asses off together. A couple/few even LEFT together raising many eyebrows but of course only went elsewhere to continue drinking and making fun of one another. Carpool slash semi-designated-driver hilarity. Absolute hilarity. Makes for good stories. Let’s write more.