Have you ever told a small white lie, like the kind that’s meant to save people from being hurt?  Well, that’s what got me into this situation.  Why is it that when you tell one, it turns into a modicum of little lies, and those lies only proliferate until you’re caught in a fairly large web?

     You see, my best friend was still hung up about his ex-girlfriend, he doesn’t move on well, he never really has.  His girlfriend, who was never really into the relationship to begin with, didn’t have any trouble moving on at all, bitch.  He never really understood that she never really cared about him, and furthermore, got upset with me whenever I would repudiate her greatness as told to me by him.  I mean, she was fastidious, she never let him think for himself, she always wanted made him by stuff for her, you get the picture.

     Even after being broken up for over a year now, he gives me an angry glare when I say anything caustic about her.  And if you think you’ll say anything actually degrading about her around him, you’re being audacious.  Believe me; I know because I’ve had to put up with a full year of his anachronistic history of their relationship, he’s still full-blown crazy about her. 

     But that’s enough back story for you to understand the dichotomy between both him and me, and him and her.  What does this have to do with lying though?  Well, let’s get to the story then.

     I was walking down the street this morning with another one of my friends and I saw the hell beast that destroyed my friend’s life.  But she’s not alone, big surprise.  But it’s not just any guy she’s with; it’s my friend’s brother, his very own flesh and blood, she’s really outdone herself this time.  Sometimes I believe that she’s like an ad hoc being placed on this earth for the specific purpose of driving him crazy, this is just further proof of that.

     My friend and I now both know what we should do; offer up a caveat to our friend, but we know what we want to do and keep walking and never bring it up again.  We, like most of you would, chose the latter and kept on with our day.  When we ran into our friend later, we went for coffee and ignored the events that we had witnessed previously.

     Later that night, I got a frantic phone call from my friend, the crazy one.  Something about did I know, and I can’t believe you, and stuff like that.  After I get him settled down, I ask him what’s wrong.  He asks me if I had seen Sandra earlier that day.  I tell him that I had not seen her, and ask what this is all about.  He says nothing and hangs up the phone.

     Why did I lie to him?  The same reason anyone has ever lied to their friend, to avoid discomfort, not to protect him, but to not be part of the confrontation that’s about to happen.  I feel bad, but I go back to watching Scrubs.

     I’m awoken by a knock; I must’ve fallen asleep on the couch.  I open the door.  I’m awoken again by the feeling of my face being punched in by a fairly large, well placed fist.  I try to regain my bearings, and finally push my assailant off of me.  I feel blood running down my face and look at my assailant through the eye that hasn’t already been swollen shut.

     It’s my friend.

     “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?”  I scream, in the nicest way possible.

     “You knew.”

     “I knew what?”

     “About Brad and Sandra.”

     “How would I know about that?”

     “She saw you,” he starts to break down in tears, he trails away, “she saw you, man.”

     He left that night, and while my bruises and eye healed, we never totally healed our relationship, something that I regret to this day.

(All stories are copyrighted to the Collaborative Learning Center and are not available for redistribution without explicit conset. For more information please e-mail PapeD@ripon.edu. The 100 Words Projcet is property of the Collaborative Learning Center, Ripon College, Ripon WI. All rights reserved.)