Every time some calls me or meets me and says they need to tell me something and they are percolating with excitement, I want to go into my little room, shut the door and hide because I know they are going to tell me what I don’t want to hear. I want to avoid them but life is funny and you end up meeting them.

Finally when they have managed to trap you in an unpainted corner they begin with that ghastly preamble of how horrified they are and they cannot believe anyone could be so petty/nasty/mean/ hurtful and like an orchestra whimpering to start they also play their opening bars with flourish.

Once they have made that initial confession and erased guilt by expressing their deep disapproval over what they intend to tell you they then share that bit of dirt about that person saying this about you and really, it is so unpleasant and who would have thought, posing as that person does as a friend.

Their need to be needed is predicated directly to how much they can hurt you so they can console you.

And you have to cringe and listen to that bull because far too often you do not have the courage (or the common sense) to simply walk away. Instead, you feel the prick of being the victim and you pretend to shrug it off and you wonder at times like this when that person was talking against you what was this person doing listening in and like a honeybee gathering pollen was gathering gossip.

Was being the harbinger of the slime showing you as a friend? Did he or she defend you? Stand up for you and say, look, back off, I don’t want to know. Do even one thing to stop it.

None of that. You enjoyed it now you are spreading your poison on me. I don’t want it. Get lost. Go away. Take a hike. Don’t tell me, I don’t want to know. Okay, can you hear me.