This I Believe, in Honesty in Friendship

Alexandra - Atlanta, Georgia
Entered on March 10, 2009

There are two things I do not tolerate: olive oil haters and lies. I choose my friends carefully, and I know who I can trust. When a problem comes up, I do not run away; instead, I run to it. I have little patience with hypocrites and liars; the irony, I write of myself. I want to live one life, one with honesty.

I couldn’t tolerate it anymore; I had to face him. We’d been friends for four years now, and I thought I could trust him. This all changed Tuesday night at 6:05, when my friend Emma called.

“I saw him with someone else.” My heart dropped. Two hours earlier, we made plans for the weekend. How could I be so stupid? There was an awkward silence; I couldn’t speak. I felt betrayed, more than anything, though, I was embarrassed.

The truth, however, I saw this coming, as vividly as I saw the look in his eyes when he saw her, the same look he used to give me. I was living a lie, and I knew I had to face reality. All along I’d been running away.

That night I traced my thoughts and counted all his lies; this had to stop. I’d been a good friend to him, and look what I got in return.

Wednesday night he called, just like any other night; I guess he didn’t know I knew about her. “WHAT?” I greeted him. “Something wrong?” he always manages to ask the brightest questions. Usually I would have said something like, “no, sorry, everything’s fine. I’m just a little stressed.” But this was no usual moment. At that very moment my soul emerged and yelled out, “no, everything’s not fine. I’ve been a good friend to you, yet I can’t even trust you. There are two things I can’t tolerate, and one of them is lies.” He was shocked; I had never been so…honest with him before. “What do you want from me? I’m not perfect,” he managed to say. “The truth.” The rest of the conversation was filled with more lies and excuses coming from the other end; but I felt so good. My heart was racing faster than a sky diver’s in the middle of the air. I was free. I was at peace. I was sky diving.

Before we hung up I told him, “I hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship.” Sure enough, we didn’t talk for two whole weeks, an eternity for two people that talk endlessly each day. The avoiding in the halls got absurdly ridiculous, and I think we were both fed up with this child’s play. Eventually he realized that our friendship was worth the fight. We promised each other to work on honesty.

Although our friendship is not yet fully amended, I know that I am at least no longer running away. Our friendship now can be reshaped into one of truth and honesty. My soul and body are now one, and I am at peace.