Last night I felt betrayed. I searched deep into my past actions to see where I have betrayed others. If I felt betrayed, chances are, I have betrayed someone.
Just now I remembered betraying Tommy.
We were at Cancun. I wanted to get laid. I decided that my chances of doing so would be higher if I stuck with Jeremy and Jake. For most of the week, I had not spent time with Tommy or Dave, despite me inviting them to Cancun.
One night Tommy hooked us up with VIP seating at a venue. We all agreed to go. By the time it was time to go, Jake and Jeremy weren’t feeling good from all the drinking. I was feeling okay, but I wanted Jake and Jeremy to go, and I felt that if they didn’t go, I shouldn’t. It was a crowd mentality thing, I think.
I was conflicted. Eventually I let Tommy know we weren’t going to make it. Knowing he wasn’t going to be okay with it, I messaged him abruptly and told him I’m going to sleep, so he didn’t have a chance to convince me or yell at me for breaking my word. I thought I got away with it.
That night I met up with Tommy and Dave. Tommy was drunk. He had forgotten about the incident until I apologized. Then he told me how fucked up it was. Apologizing did not work anymore, partly because I was insincere. He wanted me to admit that I was Jake’s little bitch.
He was right. I was Jake’s little bitch that week. I betrayed my best friend to get pussy. I knew I was going to do it. I even openly announced it at the beginning of the week, that I was going to be trying to get laid, that I may abandon Tommy and Dave. That, I thought, gave me permission to break further promises.
I refused to admit I was Jake’s little bitch. He saw right through me that night. Instead I insisted that he was drunk, and that we’d talk about it in the morning. He agreed.
The next morning neither of us brought up the incident.
It bothered me to be accused of being Jake’s bitch. Days, weeks, months later, I brought it up again, expecting Tommy to admit he was wrong. I was wrong. He stood his ground. An old argument was renewed. We had to agree to disagree.
Matthew was the cool kid in school. I was insecure. In elementary school, I asked him who his best friend was. He said, Farhad. I asked him who his next best friend was. He said Fawad. I asked him who his next best friend was. He said I. Insecurity temporarily satisfied, we went on with our homework.
Paul moved into my building in fifth grade. Since we lived together, and I was rarely allowed to go out, we spent a lot of time together and I quickly bonded with him. He was also nerdy and I couldn’t keep up with Matthew’s popularity, so Paul replaced Matthew.
Paul had a younger brother, Lee. Lee stole. I wanted to hang out with Paul, so often Lee tagged along. I invited Paul and Lee up, and stuff would get stolen. Of course, it’s my parents’ stuff, so they would find out, get angry, and punish me.
I was caught between having a close friend and avoiding punishment by my family.
Paul openly said he back-stabs all his friends. He demonstrated this when he teamed up with another friend of mine, Warren, and mocked my big nose. Together, they pretended that every inhalation sucked them toward my nose. I was hurt, but they were my only friends.
Paul defended Lee when he was accused of stealing, and rightly so. He is, after all, family. What I didn’t see at the time was that Paul was also a thief.
One time Paul invited me into his room. He showed me where he hid his money, showed me how much money he had. Then he said it was my turn. I was smart enough to see the unjustness of this act. I refused, telling him I didn’t see why I had to. He tried to pressure me, but I didn’t budge. It’s only now that I see what he was really up to.
I’ve caught Lee with my Marvel cards. Back then, I was in love with comics. Marvel comics published collectable cards and, being relatively well off, I bought a lot of them. I’ve seen Lee walk out of my room, clearly with my cards sticking out of his pant pockets. I don’t remember if I stopped him immediately, but I do remember summoning up the courage to face Paul and accuse Lee of stealing my cards. There are some really rare cards that I had, that Lee suddenly possessed. I told Paul those were mine. Paul asked Lee, and Lee said they were his. That settled it. I couldn’t win.
Paul and his family eventually moved away, so I drifted back to Matthew for friendship. “So now that Paul’s gone, you’re back, huh?”
Our friendship had changed. He made new friends; I was still a loner. I was no longer #3, while he was, in a sense, still #1.
Our last interaction was right after I was accepted to Stuyvesant High School, a prestigious public school in New York. Everyone wanted to go, but only I and one or two other kids I knew were accepted. Matthew was not one of them.
Matthew asked me for something. Some help, some object, I forget. I told him no. Maybe it was my tonality, maybe it was that I stood up for myself. He walked away and shot back, “I’m glad you’re going to Stuy.”
In retrospect, my insecurity had ruined both friendships. I was not confident enough to hang out with Matthew, so I left him for Paul. Then I took Paul’s backstabbing because he was my best friend. Finally, Matthew showed me the pain of my disloyalty.
Let me lead by example, let me do what’s right. Let me be the loyal best friend I’ve always wanted.
I just found out that Tommy and Theresa are looking to move earlier than expected. This means that I’m getting kicked out earlier than expected.
I feel sad. I feel fear. I wonder if I had anything to do with the decision.
I can probably crash at Uncle Andy’s place.
My behavior changed upon hearing the news. I withdrew. I walked into the bathroom for no reason. I walked into my room for no reason. I felt out of place. I felt unwanted.
Did I have anything to do with the decision?
I don’t want to ask because I think they will say no. I don’t want to appear weak in front of them. But asking would be stronger than hiding with my feelings.
If they say no, I have not lost anything. I will wonder if they lied to spare my feelings, but that’s what I’m wondering already. Or I can accept it at face value and trust them. If they say yes, I can find out what I did, if anything.
I just asked. Tommy assured me it had nothing to do with me, while Theresa, in the middle of a long speech about how she wants a yard, leaked that it’s tough having four beings in a one-bedroom apartment.
My assessment: I did contribute, but more as a footnote.
I feel better.
I still carry resentment. I feel betrayed. Bros before hos, man! How many times have I done shit for you?
Covert contract, anyone?
The feeling of, “Tommy, when are you going to grow some balls?” contributes. I feel that Tommy has let his girl take over the relationship again, and this time it’s affecting me.
It’s odd. I’m used to moving all the time, so why am I so upset?
Also I’m upset that Theresa doesn’t share her grudges against me when they are small. She lets them build up and them blow up on me. Instead of telling me she’s freaking out about my parents visiting, she holds it in. I feel that her bottling up her emotions, then blowing them up in a sideways manner to get rid of me, is very passive aggressive and prevents me from being able to fix the situation.
I’m holding back emotion right now, too. I don’t want to explode unnecessarily.
I’m trying to figure out how to act. Is this a matter that should be handled with thought or with the wild man? Thinking things through often don’t work, as I’ve observed at the NWTA.
What would a strong leader do? My mission is to create a marvelous, carefree fun world by leading by example. I can lead by example by being okay with it, finding my next destination soon, and go peacefully. Starting a fight will only create resentment. I’ll never live with Tommy again if I don’t go when I am asked.
My shadow mission: create a boring, worrisome serious world by following. I don’t ever leave the apartment, and with this change I just blow up. So I want to maintain the boringness of their existence, and I create worry by blowing up. I am not leading, not adapting to the situation. Instead I prevent them from having fun.
Resenting doesn’t feel good. I just turned my resentment to curiosity: I asked how their search was coming along, what they were looking for, etc. I wanted to say whatever it was was awesome, but they didn’t give enough details.
I now accept the situation. I know I need to find a place to live soon. I harbor no bad feelings toward either Tommy or Theresa. No overt ones, anyway.
I am King Lion, my color is royal blue. My mission is to create a marvelous, carefree fun world by leading by example. As a man amongst men, I am a leader.
Acceptance vs progress. Yin vs yang. Monkey vs turtle. Zebra. Friend vs hermit. Lover vs player. Man vs boy. 80 vs 5-year-old. Hippie vs rocker. Reader vs writer. Consumer vs producer. New Yorker vs Chinese. Thinker vs doer. Focused vs relaxed. Quality vs quantity. Student vs teacher. Leader vs follower. Talker vs listener. Domination vs empathy. Control vs release. Past vs present vs future. Sex vs love. Companionship vs solitude. Serious vs fun. Chaos vs order. Dirty vs immaculate. Hoard vs possessionless. Traveling vs grounding. Work vs play. Money vs time. Infinity vs null. Empathy vs detachment. Raw vegan vs carnivore. Giver vs taker. Better vs worse. Stronger vs acceptance. Progress vs acceptance. Passion vs what-needs-to-be-done. Needs vs wants. Life vs stagnancy vs death. Old vs young.
“So yesterday, before the men’s group, I went to a burger joint. There was this smoking hot girl…but I didn’t talk to her.”
“Aw!”
“She even checked me out.”
“Awww!!!”
“I’m happy to be hot.”
“I wouldn’t be. If I didn’t take action, if I didn’t work for it, I wouldn’t be satisfied. Being content with what life gives you would lead to a stagnant life.”
We went back and forth. I insisted that viewing it as a positive experience was better; Tommy insisted that we need to overcome difficulties to be happy. I took the Buddhist stance: appreciate the way things are; accept and celebrate the present. He took on what I perceived to be a “never be content, always strive for something better” stance.
Who was right is irrelevant. I was being defensive. I denied the possibility that he had a point. I didn’t even want to consider the other option: talking to her might have led to a more fulfilling outcome.
After going back and forth a few more times, I chose a different tactic. I criticizing his habit of saying “I feel” all the time.
Uh…who cares?
Instead of staying on topic and fighting the good fight, arguing and defending what I believed to be right, I sideswiped him. If any other person did that, I would call out that cheap move, trying to distract from the original argument. That I resorted to this tactic shows how little ground I stood on; furthermore, how desperate I was to win.
You ever been to Seattle? It’s like God mists you all day, every day, for ten months. Then summer comes, and it’s gorgeous. I remember that first summer day. I woke up, saw the sun, and immediately got dressed. Even when Wendy called, I just answered, “Hey-what’s-up-the-sun-is-out-gotta-go-bye.”
I ran to the park. There were kids, parents, and everybody else out there, playing frisbee or whatever. I conquered a small hill and, satisfied with the little people frolicking, took a majestic nap.
Then, I heard it. The noise every New Yorker knows: the rustle of the homeless. And of course, the inevitable smell. I turned and saw them: three hippie kids and their dog. Ugh. I had just laid down!
I stayed. I persisted. I fought through it. I was determined to enjoy my sun. No way these bums are ruining my tan. I tried to nap again.
They started chatting, like mosquitoes in my ear, and each breath was more putrid than the last. I was reaching my limit.
Then they talked about how cold it was last night.
I remembered how wet it was, because I was driving and couldn’t see a thing. I got soaked just running to the apartment. I shed the wet threads, pumped up the heat, and slept like a bun in the oven.
But these kids, they slept in the rain. The whole night. I could hear their voices, still trembling, as they described their night. I imagined them clutching their blankets, shivering under a dark bridge.
I saw their nightly struggles with Seattle on their faces and their clothes; I heard it in their voices.
A binary search is a great way to find the sweet spot between two extremes. When designing this site I did a lot of that. Is this font too small? Let’s make it giant. Then let’s make it in between. Then let’s make it in between the next two. I kept going until I got the right size, spacing, and shade of grey.
This works for behavior too. Are you too nice? Become an asshole. Too much of an asshole? Go halfway. Still too nice? Go halfway between that as well.
Another way of doing it is through an incremental search. But doing incremental searches can take too long. How much do you increment each time? How do you increment niceness?