Little Faisal

Two months ago, I had a falling out with yet another close friend: Faisal. I'd known him for three years and we were tight. We argued and I haven't seen or spoken to him since. I'm not sorry about it.

I may have had a point in picking a fight with him. In fact, I know that what he did wasn't right, but I over-reacted in a bid to drive things to a head, as the destructive are wont to do. Three months later, things are much clearer in my head and I know why things turned out the way they did. I guess, on one level, I always knew but now they seem much clearer to me and, hence, much easier to write about.

Simply put, I had no respect for Faisal. Not one bit. He was stupid, thick, dumb, an imbecile, a total moron. No savvy, no culture, no interest in politics or reading or anything remotely mind-expanding, not smart; a complete emotional midget.

And I hated him for it and didn't respect him one bit. Not only that, all my reactions betrayed this lack of respect, culminating in the argument that ended our "friendship". Ordinarily, I'm quite tolerant of other people's stupidity (and they of my arrogance and pomposity) but this was different. I truly despised his ignorance and I let him know it.

Why? Simple. I envied him more than I'd envied anyone else before.

Faisal was an extremely good-looking guy and I resented the attention that garnered him: heads would turn when he walked by and I would be rendered invisible; women would adopt a friendlier tone with him; he got away with more. I could say more about this and you'd call me paranoid, but I have a lot of faith in my ability to read people. I didn't get the attention he got and it really, really killed me.

He was also so damned nice. A genuinely nice person. Kind, friendly, open, vulnerable, wears his heart on his sleeve, filled with this...this joy. Everything that I couldn't and wouldn't be. His niceness added another layer of charisma to him...and that ate me up! Why was he so much better looking than me? And so much nicer than me? Why?? Did I murder nuns in a covenant, in a previous life? What the fuck?

To top it off, he made more money and he was close to his family. He simply had more of it and he used it to make his life better. Money never used to matter to me but it does now. I didn't feel he deserved it, mostly because he was a complete moron. To be fair, I didn't begrudge him the money stuff but when I put it next to the first two reasons I hated him, it was just more fuel to the fire. But I know how it is: money and fame are opportunity and blind-luck, so it doesn't mean anything. It didn't make him better than me. No, it was the family closeness thing bothered me much more. I felt like...he got more love than me. Unconditional love, you know, the kind you don't have to do anything to get. The kind I hear about but never really experienced. The kind that I know (through intellect, not feeling) that you build up with someone over time, you don't just get it handed to you. Unless it's from your parents.

Most of my relationships fail because I can't get to that point. Because I don't believe in it, on an emotional level, and therefore sabotage it before the disappointment hits. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy and nobody self-fulfills like me.

You've heard the old cliche about not being hugged as a child? Well, I wasn't and boo-hoo to that. Suck it up, you say?

I did, asshole. I sucked it up and ignored it and worked around it and hardened up until I couldn't feel anything inside me anymore. I didn't let it get to me until nothing else did either. I'm at this point where I can't feel any closeness to anyone on this earth and yet the wrong traffic light will cause me to break down in fits of crying and despair. I suck it up and all it does is help the people who tell you to suck it up, because they don't have to hear your whining anymore.

Boy, I've come with a doozy of a self-indulgent, self-pitying rant, wouldn't you say? Well, if not on my blog, then where, right? Anyway, don't read it if you don't want to. Or, better still, read it and pretend that you haven't. Less awkwardness for when we meet, faceless masses.

So, the argument with Faisal. With all these feelings simmering beneath the surface, it's pretty cut-and-dried that it was all my fault, no? I mean, a bigger man would just call him up and apologize, right?

Not so fast, Linford..

First of all, I can't help not respecting him. It's innate. I regret not telling him sooner about it, come what may, but I can't help not respecting him. It's instinctual and not the kind of thing you fake. I mean, why would you, even?

Secondly, he's not entirely blameless either: he hates me for being "clever-er" and more assertive than him. He envied my personality...he envied that I have a personality. His envy was no less malevolent and insiduous than mine and he certainly allowed it to manifest itself in our dealings. In a strange twist, he also hated how complicated and problematic and demanding I was, despite the fact that all that stems from my personality too. He envied it and yet he feared it. Very Smeagol and Lord of the Rings, don't you think?

Thirdly, his loyalty wasn't where it should have been, in as much as Catherine was concerned. She of the weak, manipulative and mendacious mind. If we were truly friends, he would have cut off with her, the moment me and her fell out. That's what I would have done, if the situation were reversed. I also wouldn't have asked him not to come to my goodbye party because Catherine would be there. Not what friends do, is it?

So, good riddance to bad rubbish. You can't be friends with everyone, and you shouldn't try. If I saw him in the street, I'd nod and walk on..but not much more. It's ok to not respect someone but it's not enough to hate him and I certainly don't. My feeling is just that if I'm going to be friends with people, it's got to fit in with my expectations and views of the world. I mean, I'm not the easiest person in the world to get along with..but neither is anyone else.

And if they are, then they're not worth knowing, really.

End of rant. Find something to do.