The Silent Treatment
“He treats you like shit regardless of what you do”
She takes a sip of her Pinot Grigio
“You want to appear unavailable, or unreachable–”
“And then what? Flee? Ghost the person like a bored and dissatisfied 19 year old? Bitch please, I’m 26,”
“That’s cruel. And you can’t renege on commitments you made because than you’d be no better than a liar. I say, deal with the shit and then go quiet, don’t end the friendship just yet, just drop off the radar for a bit and hope for the best”
Confronting the Person
“Or–why don’t you just talk to him, look him in the eye and tell him to stop it. And then give him the middle finger for extra effect.”
M takes a pink macaron, she examines it for a moment. Her yellow, Versace sun dress illuminates the space around us.
“Tell him you’re having none of it. Tell him after all the help, all the sacrifices you made, that you deserve better.
“if you have any self-respect, you would sit his ass down, cut him like a bitch and pour salt all over the goddamn wound. And when you’re done dressing him down, you can tell him to go f*ck himself.”
And then I ask my two friends
“But what if I just let him go? Burn bridges, you know. I can do the disappearing bit for a while before I confront the bastard and when that’s done, I can end the damn thing”
“But it’s not that easy huney. Human relationships are complicated. And when you end one friendship, you end ten. You lose one, and you lose a tribe. It’s a zero-sum game”
“So I’m fucked both ways”
“Not exactly. But I’m only saying that to make you feel better”
M takes a macaron, cuts the pastry in half and sets it on her plate.
And then I remember what my father told me years ago. I take my journal from my black knapsack and read the entry verbatim.
“Don’t say anything, do not abandon the person and don’t ever confront him. You’re wasting your time. Stay where you are. Stay civil, stay gracious, but say and do no more, and let the thing run its course”
We leave the cafe, full and pressed for time. M and my other friend call a cab, leaving me to my own devices, I mull over their counsel. I mull over my situation. I mull over an answer but I fail to discern a choice.
People are complicated.