For you can only deny for so long, you can only avoid for so long. Once you’re caught you’re caught, the gig it up, there is no point in denying. For how much stories can you keep up with until you begin to lose track of your stories -your lies. How I saw it was, the damage had already been done, why make matters worst? So, I confessed, I was honest and spoke nothing but truth.
Now, when I say truth, I admitted to using, but I never threw anyone under bus. In other words, I admitted my truth, I spoke nothing, but my truth, never involving anyone although others were involved. Honesty is key -it is a peace offering, especially in a time as such.
As for my friend on the other hand… Spoke nothing but lies, placing full blame on me. Her story was, I was the one that got involved in it all, I was the only one that did it and she disapproved. She witnessed, but had nothing to do with it, she lied to the extend that she created so many stories, stories which never even happened. I was left speechless when I heard them… what a blow. She claimed to be the victim, the one to just follow. Yet, it was the exact opposite, she had the connect, she totally did it and definitely approved as she never paid, I did, so it was a free ride and she enjoyed every minute of it, until her ass was on the line.
Funny thing was I never threw her under the bus, I could have crushed her in a second, but I refrained. For a while, I contemplated on printing out the photos I had, sending them out into the world, exposing just how much of a lair she was. Not once did I point the finger at her or anyone else for that matter. And, when the lies were brought to my attention, I sat there quietly, absorbing it all, taking it all in.
I couldn’t understand why? The thing was, it wasn’t even her parents, they were mine… what benefit would she get? Was it just to stay faced? Because, let’s face it, our friendship was over regardless of the lies, my parents would have never allowed me to talk to her again. It made no sense, but it was interesting, entertaining in a sense, seeing the extent she was willing to go for self preservation.
Lucky enough, my parents actually believed me, which is quite rare. Because, the thing is, I was never exposed to that life. I was very much sheltered, I was raised uptown in the Jewish community, went to an all girls school attached to a nunnery. I wasn’t saint, but I didn’t know shit about that world. Yes, I did smoke weed, but I knew nothing of hardcore drugs. Literally, oblivious!
The first time we grabbed, I asked a million and one questions.. “What’s going to happen?”, “Will I be normal?”, “Can I talk to people?”, “How will a look?”, “What shouldn’t I do?”, “Can I drive?”, “Should I drive?”, “You sure, I’ll be normal?”, “I won’t look weird?”, “Should I stay home?”, “What happens if I go out?”… I was paranoid, didn’t know what to expect, the dealer even laughed at the amount of questions I had and yet she stood there calmly as though it wasn’t the first time, to this day I still question if it was. So let’s get real… I didn’t know shit until her connect.
And, to further stress how innocent I was in this revelations of lies, her connect even dropped her, when they heard the story. They were friends and after I shared this whole thing with them, they never spoke again to her again. They couldn’t believe it, the betrayal, and they knew that if she could do it to me, she would most definitely do it to them. It was unreal.
And, as much as it ate me alive, like many of things on my life, I avoided it -swallowed it. Yes, I could have squash her in a second, I still can, destroy her world in a heart beat, but what is the purpose? What would I get out of it? Fuck it. Remember it. Engrave it. Learn from it.