Here is what happens when I am emotionally distressed - I can't write very well. The ideas that seem hilarious and/or relevant in my head evaporate into puddles of stupid when I write them down. And when I try to be thoughtful & real it sounds all heavy and Oxygen-channelish, unbearably wrong.
So I'll just be conversational stream-of-consciousness right now in order to get this stuff out before it infects me further and ruins my f*cking birthday. A friend of mine (and I'm unfortunately using the term 'friend' loosely at this point) has moved out of his home, leaving my other verygood friend (term used strongly) and her children reeling. He (loose friend) claims all kinds of sad things that sound ridiculous to me but I am trying to give him the benefit of the extremely doubtful doubt and breathe deeply & be supportive of his wife/my verygood friend while he "works things out" by living an hour away, half-heartedly attending counseling, and alienating everyone who cares about him. Opinionated, me? My friend (the verygood one) has called me fierce; I like that.
The suddenness of this development (though Loose Friend says it should have been obvious for years) has caused me to scrutinize my own relationship. Because, frankly, I had put my man and VeryGood Friend's husband at the same level of fun-loving & committed before last week. In the past half-dozen years, nearly every social good time involved these friends; I believed all of us to be enjoying each other's company. Stu has gamely been enduring my sideways glances, long reminiscing observations, pensive silences, my cryptic leading questions ("Sooo, are you unhappy with our life??").
I don't know what else to say, and I have no idea what to do - other than just live and keep being honest, open, and supportive. I had no idea that was a novel idea to some people.