I have a close friend whose title of "close" I can almost safely say is comatose and "friend" barely hanging on. Part of it might be the contempt and bitterness towards him that I'm failing to ward of. The other is him.
He doesn't tell me much personal stuff anymore. I can tell he's not content; I still can read him well. There is, however, one small keyhole that allows me to proverbially peer into his otherwise tight space. I snooped (and ironically, stumbled) upon it. Voyeuristic doesn't quite describe my actions. My moral compass wants to point on the label "crime," though it spins between that and "stalker." Other adjectives are welcome.
I wish a simple phone call, visit or chat would re-establish trust and make my detectiving pointless. Sorry, this seems to be the only way I really know what's going on with him. Why? It's complicated. Why is it always complicated? Oh, yeah. *Re-reads beginning paragraph*
I wish I was more ashamed. But knowing that I know what he doesn't want others, probably including me, to know gives me a sick, Cheshire Cat-like grin.
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