I’m having serious troubles today.
Okay, so I get a call from Beth yesterday. She’s crying, I can’t understand anything she’s saying. I really start to freak out. I mean, I’ve known her for all of a week and now she’s completely hysterical. The first thing that comes to mind is that she’s in a car accident or someone died or some freak’s stalking her and she’s stuck in the attic holding a metal rod in one hand and her cell phone in the other. Well, thankfully, it wasn’t that.
I finally get out of her that Jordan broke up with her. I was sincerely sympathetic. I’d only met him once, and I didn’t particularly like him, but she seemed ready to exchange the sun and stars for him. I went over to her apartment, shared some Ben & Jerry’s I bought for the occassion, and listened to her. Really, I said almost nothing, though I gave a few awkward hugs. I really am not used to that sort of intense emotional drama. I won’t even get into the details of the whole break-up. It’s as bad as a soap opera, without the satisfaction that it’s fiction. Quite frankly, having distanced myself from it a little, I think it’s a good thing Jordan’s gone.
But today she keeps calling me. She spent her whole lunch break on the phone with me, trying to understand what she did wrong. There’s only so many times I can tell her that she didn’t do anything. Reading between the lines, I’m pretty certain Jordan was a jerk.
And here’s a question for you all. Why me? I didn’t even know Beth till last week. I’ve got enough problems of my own without being dragged into hers. It’s not that I don’t care–well, I care she hurts, but, seriously, most guys shouldn’t be touched with a ten-foot stick. Ninety-five percent of them are idiots, and the other five percent aren’t going to fall for a girl like me. I had one guy I once thought kinda liked me. He was a skater, a bad boy, and we were kinda friends, but he found Jesus in high school and now he’s working in the slums somewhere. And that’s the extent of my experience.
And it just boggles me that Beth actually misses this guy. I mean, she’s gorgeous, she kind, she has her own place. Why does she need this dirtbag? I’m sure there are nice guys out there, somewhere. And if not, so what? And, come on, she has to have someone else to talk to besides me.
But if she keeps calling me, I might just snap one of these times and tell her to get ahold of herself. And that would be just great of me, wouldn’t it?