I sold my friend out for a girl

All of what follows is a true story. It happened a while ago, and it's the reason I left the country.

It happened one night in a bar where my friend worked. He said, "I've been seeing this girl, and we've got something going.

And I said, "Ahh, that's nice to hear, man! Nice work." It's good to show that you're happy for a friend when something comes together for them, even when you genuinely don't care. This guy had had so many women and left nothing for the rest of us. He'd even taken one of the women I'd been interested in this one time. He was always so cocky, so proud of what he'd accomplished in that department. The last one had left him, so this was a boon for him. The best thing to do was feign joy.

Fast-forward to later in the evening. I wasn't getting on with anyone there. It was cruddy. The people were cheap shitty white people. I'm white, so don't take that the wrong way. We sat at the table, me and his girl. Around us people in their late 20's singing karaoke in a bar that would soon be closed down for lack of feet. There was an opening out onto the street where you could see passers by. But no-one really cared for the place. Nobody important. It's name was Mercury Lounge. My friend was the sound guy there. My friend had gone somewhere upstairs. The girl started playing footsie with me. 

Fast-forward another 2 hours or so later, me and his girl and I were holding hands in another section of the venue. It was dark and cozy in that section of the place. It felt good to have her in my heart. Her fingers were soft and squishy and clean and warm.  I let people in too easily.  He saw us. She warned me. His name is Kyle. I dishonored myself in his eyes. For 6 or so years we'd been trusted friends. And here I was holding his girl's hands at his hangout place. 

Another 2 hours later and I was running down a flight of stairs to escape the sound of their copulation. IT WAS DRIVING ME NUTS. He had his fist bearing down on me at the staircase. He was doing strange things with his mouth. Grinding his teeth. He was blaming me for running. Apparently running was the wrong move. Now he looked about ready to kill me. 

Another 2 hours and I was on the road. It was about 4am. I don't remember much about that drive, just the feeling of desperation. I remember the traffic lights just before the big mountain pass that I was to climb. It was a feeling of panic and misery. Of life's unfairness.

I changed all of my passwords when I got to my home town about an hour later. I went onto the internet at a local internet cafe and changed them all. The thing was, he had my computer in his apartment. Her apartment was the place where they'd done the deed. I still had to go back to his apartment later that evening to get my computer and bags because I was meant to stay over at his place. 

After telling my mother all of this - she couldn't understand it - I got the vague feeling that she thought I was the cause of all this mischief. It just felt like she didn't understand at the time, but if she felt that way, she'd be right. I also went to an older friend of about 50 who is a bit of a rogue. He offered to protect me; to go with me.

I left home around 3pm and got there around 5pm. I went back to her apartment which I found by intuition. I told the guard that I wanted to visit the girl. I still had her in my mind. She was moving house. He wouldn't let me in though.  I got to the parking lot in a kind of industrial area. I went round the back which was where the train station was. I got onto his floor and stood waiting there. Then I decided I'd go outside instead and look for his car. I saw his car. A golf. 

First thing I told them: "I need my phone." I treated the two of them like bozo's. The girl had shat on me and my friend had shat on me. It was all a game for them. He whizzed up the spiral parking ramp to the top. Then he found a parking lot labeled 69 and he made some joke about that. 

Then we were in the elevator and headed up to his apartment. I stood there in a negative way, arms crossed, all indignant They stood in the back, and I stood next to some pedestrian-looking guy. I was pissed off, and I felt he could understand it. I felt like they could understand it too. They could see that I was angry at the whole world. All humans, including them. And they giggled. 

Fast forward to the weekend, which was 3 or so days from them, and I was telling my sob story to a friend at a market close by. He made moon bags. He gave me a blue velvet one. I wanted to leave it on her apartment steps. She was all weird about it. She didn't like it. I sent her a bunch of messages, then snuck into her block of flats, which was also his. She didn't answer after about knocking four or five times. I was worried he'd come at me at some point, so I left. The situation was dicey, to say the least. I left feeling I had nothing in all the world, especially as I got to the mountain pass. I felt like a coward. She sent me a message that blamed me for all of this. It all seemed so terrible. It seemed that I was the victim. The petrol attendant didn't care. 

I still don't mind that I lost that friendship of 6 years. He shouldn't have slept with her in her room with the door ajar, which might have been right in front of me. I have had these weird dreams ever since where I'm staying in that apartment, and Kyle comes knocking at my door to ask if I'm okay. If we're cool. I will never speak to him again. What can I say? We hang out in different places, and I'm too hard-up for a woman at the best of times.