Cut to the end of last week when my best friend's husband, who has been afflicted with something like
I did not look at him. I wasn't sure if I might weep, and it occurred to me that I refuse (now - I have previously written loving, pleading, hopeful e-mails and spoken kindly on the phone in vain attempts to show I will welcome him back; they went unnoticed, as far as I know) I refuse to exhibit any softness toward him now - because he has not acknowledged my questions & thoughts; because he is unnecessarily cold & cruel to my best friend; because he denies any of his actions might affect his sons; because he refuses to slow down and talk with a counselor; because he has said out loud that he is ready & willing to lose his closest friends. And all of this makes me think, considering my definition of hate, that I am there.
I think about this man constantly, my best friend's husband, my former good friend - we often joked that he & I were so alike, in crazy ways like spending money and having just one more cocktail and staying out another hour while Stu & Jen were the frugal, judicious, practical ones. I think about what's going on in his mind, how we can help (kidnapping?), what will we do without him in our lives. Because I loved him, and maybe because I'm starting to hate him.