I gave you money when you needed it. We took each other to doctors appointments. We vacationed together. We spent holidays and shared gifts with each other. I helped you in every way you ever asked. You ate at my table literally every day for almost 17 years.
And her, I kept her every secret for 30 years. I supported her and covered for her every time she needed me. I was her shoulder to cry on and I was her champion when she was felt low. I went to court with her, I listened to her, I went out of my way to make sure she was okay, I introduced you two because I thought you might be good for each other.
For the last year you’ve both acted like I was the problem. You both want to act like the last 17 and 30 years collectively have meant absolutely nothing because you’re so afraid that what you’ve built is a lie. You’ve pretended like the times you’ve shared with my family and the times I’ve shared with your families haven’t mattered. You have both hurt me, my children, our other mutual friends and I’m done allowing you both to pretend like it’s okay to stalk my blog and social media, make comments to my other acquaintances, send me bullshit texts, and in general be a couple of ass clowns. She doesn’t like that I know all her deepest, darkest secrets but let’s face it, neither do you. More to the point for both of you, they are pretty horrible secrets.
The ink is barely dry on her divorce decree, less than a month and you’re running down the aisle to lock it in, do you think it will make a difference when she cheats on you like she has all the others? I get it, I do, I’ve known you both way too long for either of you to keep me in your lives, eventually one of you would ask me a question about the other and then it would all come crumbling down, all of your deluded fantasies about each other. I’m not blameless. No one in these situations ever is. I’ve apologized and moved on and it’s time for you two to do the same.
Here’s a fantastic way to get you started: since you have a problem with what I write and you so desperately want to believe every single thing I write is about you, stop reading it. Stop stalking my shit, it’s only going to get worse for you, it’s over, truly, it’ll never go back to any reasonable way it used to be, I mean it really is true, with friends like you, who needs enemies?
It reminds me a bit of the Ides of March, fitting since it just passed. “Beware the Ides of March” or “Et Tu, Brute?”, both historically significant and relevant even today. It’s all about being betrayed by a great friend. It’s all about wishing you had been warned before it had happened.
Roman Dictator Julius Cesar was warned by a soothsayer early in the year 44 BC of his imminent death that he would die by the 15th of March. While walking to meet his friend Brutus he passed the soothsayer on the street and made reference happily to it being the Ides of March and yet he still lived. The soothsayer warned again cryptically that the day was not over. By days end Julius was dead by the hand of his Senators and best mate and Rome was changed forever. As he lay dying he cried out “Et Tu, Brute?” (You too, Brutus?)
I’ve had those knives tear into the flesh of my every emotion but I was luckier than Cesar, I survived the both of you. I am stronger for going through it. I was warned so many times about the two of you and I railed against it. I found out in the end though, Frienemies is real shit.