This Time The Anger's Better Than The Kiss . . .

Bang your knee hard up against the table, and you know you're going to get a nasty deep bruising. You know that eventually it'll clear up. The days will go by, and the bruise will turn from that deep purple to a slight yellowish tinge. And then you'll wake up and your skin will be the same pristine tone you had before. But today, that bruise is an ugly purple welt, the merest touch makes you wince in pain.

All my friends, including greg, were right. I should've just run from Setup Chick and never looked back. For the last two weeks, Setup Chick has been reckless with me. She tells me she always thinks of me, that she wants to be with me. And yet her pathetic boyfriend calls her, says he wants to marry her, and back in his arms she goes. This has been going on and on. And because we were friends before all this happened, I played the good guy.

At 2 a.m. in this morning, she called me sobbing, saying how she wasn't at her parents like she told me but that she was with him. How this last week, she didn't feel anything for him, could she come over. And I said yes. I said yes because I love her. We had dinner Wednesday night prior, and I knew she wanted to be with me--the gestures, the handholding, the looks. This morning after she called, she came by, and were ended up in my bed. Then her boyfriend called her, saying how he had no purpose in life if she left him, how he wanted to marry her. This same scene happened two Fridays ago already, so I knew the score. I told her to do what she had to do.

And so again she left. And again the call happens, the "I'm staying with him" call. I've prepared myself for this conversation. I'm glad that her boyfriend called while we were in bed, because it showed me what a pathetic being he is. He's a man who can only define himself by someone else, while at the same time treating that someone else like shit. He's a desperate man who went to Setup Chick's home, begging her parents forintervention. And if Setup Chick stayed with him, then why would I want a woman with such poor judgment?

And so in this call, I asked her what changed. She says that she realized she hadn't been putting any effort into the relationship. She says I have to believe her when she says she really cares about me. She says that she wants to be friends still, that her boyfriend will allow that.

Me, I was the good guy for the past two weeks, and I'm tired of it. I tell her that I can't be happy for her because what she did to me was evil. I tell her that for what she did to me, she doesn't deserve any happiness. I ask her how we can be friends, her knowing how I feel about her, how I would have to be next to her wearing that ring if we were "friends." I tell her that her actions speak louder than her words, so I don't believe her when she says she cares about me. I told her she just threw away a good friend and the only person who has treated her right. But I guess there's a reason why some women stay with their abusers.

We talk in circles. She says she has to go. I tell her this is the last goodbye, that I wish that I could wish her happiness, but I can't. I hang up the phone.

I left the gig on Thursday (not for this reason, but because I'd been feeling the dread waking up for the past two months). On Tuesday, she'll walk into the office, and after six months of being there, of seeing me everyday, I won't be there. And that's her tough luck.

I know I'll get over this. Anyone who treats me like that isn't a good person, much less a good friend. Anyone who stays with a person who doesn't make her happy, who only makes an effort to change after she finds someone else, who begs and pleads and threatens--anyone who stays with a person like that doesn't deserve me.

But right now, I feel sad. I already miss her. And right now, I feel angry, angry at the way my heart was just tossed around. And right now, I feel heartsick. Everyone tells me that I'll meet the one eventually, but I see people all the time who haven't--barely hiding their misery, overcompensating by being extra nice, knowing though that they don't fit in.

Eventually the bruising goes away. It always does.