Communication

If anyone ever tries to tell you otherwise, kick them: Communication is key in lasting relationships.

After a week of being royally irritated with one another, Bill posted something about Prop 8 on his Facebook account that really offended and hurt me Friday evening. (This isn't the time or the place to get into it, but suffice it to say, neither of us supported Prop 8, but his extremely vocal criticism of the groups involved started a little close to home.) Upset, I sent him a message asking if we could talk about it sometime Saturday afternoon. He agreed.

I was in Belltown working on a project when he called asking if I wanted to grab late lunch/early dinner. I agreed, so he picked me up.

As soon as I got in the car he asked me about it. I am a bit ashamed to admit it, but I yelled. Not as in, "I got mad and let him know" but as in "I totally lost my cool, raised my voice, and yelled." As soon as I started it, I knew I had to stop. I said two sentences, got very silent, and after a brief pause, said quietly, "I'm sorry."

We drove around for an hour talking about it. He didn't think his actions were wrong. I can see his perspective, but I disagree. Honestly, the last week and half has made it really hard to be a Mormon, I would have liked a little reprieve from my best friend. And, I told him that. Eventually, he came to see my point. He still didn't think his actions were in the wrong—in fact, he told me, he had censored himself a bit—but he did apologize that my feelings were hurt. I can't hold that against him. There have been a number of times where I didn't think I was in the wrong, but I did feel bad that my actions hurt someone. That was exactly what happened there. He recognized that, and apologized where he felt the most responsible.

We eventually parked and found a place for dinner.

After waiting for our food for 45 minutes our parking expired, so I asked for it 'to go'. The server brought our food and, in the interest of time, I threw down cash and we ran out the door. We took the food back to his place and ate and hung out.

When dinner was finished we hung out a bit more and finally I said, "Let's talk," but not in that creepy, "we.have.to.talk." sort of way. We started talking about the past week and how we had been mad at each other off and on.

I was telling him how his actions at the Halloween party (and thereafter) upset me. He didn't really see why I was so upset for so long. Finally I told him that he nearly kissed me. Incredulous, he said, "No, I seem to recall something being said..."

"Yes, that was said. Before you tried to kiss me."

He demanded details.

I gave them to him. He argued that he didn't nearly kiss me. I said, "fine, you didn't. But you did." Eventually I modified that to, "it sure seemed that way to me." He insisted that he didn't.

When I told him that I told someone else about this (I really needed some advice from someone who was there) he was mortified. He said over and over again how he wouldn't just go after his best friend because the girl he had been making out with earlier had passed out. After I realized he was done trying to convince me and there must be something more to it, I asked him if it was because I had told this other girl. As it turns out, that's exactly the case. He was a little worried that it had gotten back to Miss Nose Bleed, but, more so, I think, that people in our circle of friends now think that he's the type of guy who would go after his best friend because he wasn't getting any from his earlier attempt.

Mid-pout and irritation he said, "You know you can always talk to me!"

"I'm sorry," I replied, similarly irritated, "I was too busy freaking out that you had tried to kiss me! I needed to talk to someone who wasn't you!"

We hung out for just a little bit longer, then I had to leave. I'm glad we talked. Really, I am.

The amazing thing is—last week was an amazing strain on our friendship, and this week, the status quo seems to have not changed at all.