An Offer I Did Refuse

(Original photo stolen from ritzichick85 on Flickr)

by Honey

She was the friend that I told everything to. When I was having all sorts of problems at home, she was the person who knew all the nitty gritty details. And they were nitty AND gritty. Believe me. I knew that I could tell her anything and she would not judge me. She listened, and that was all I needed. I didn’t ask for her opinion, and she didn't give one. I just needed an ear.

Because, the truth be told, I went a little crazy. I look back at those times and am completely shocked at how crazy the things I’d done were. And if I’m going to be honest; and I may as well, I’ll never see you at my PTA meetings (or will I?). I did a few things I was ashamed of. One of which was a three-some. Which I’m not going to describe except to say, I had one, and I told my friend about it. My friend, whose husband I hate. Because I told her everything.

A few months later, a few of us girls decided to go to Las Vegas for a girls’ weekend in Las Vegas. All of us needed to get away, and what could be better than a place that invites you to forget about your troubles and have some fun? I was still in my own personal hell at home, and she, well…she and her husband were on the outs AGAIN. She said he had his knickers in a knot about who-knows-what, and so was not speaking to her. I said well, come to Vegas and we can all hang out and gamble and drink and maybe even go to the spa. They had a really nice one in our hotel.

We go over to the spa to book our massages. They tell us, can’t squeeze you in until later in the day. So we make our appointments, and go down for some gambling. We drink a little too much. We were on the tables where you drink for free. I wasn’t drinking quite as much as the rest of the ladies because I was beginning to worry that I was using it as an escape hatch to do ridiculous things. So when my friend asked me to take her to the bathroom, I took her. I knew that she had been drinking way more than I, and I thought really she needed help. She was pretty drunk, and babbling about how much she loved me, and I was her best friend. And then she kissed me. Not like a “I love my best friend” kiss. Really laid it on me. I was COMPLETELY in shock. I didn’t know what to say. But she was so drunk that I don’t think she noticed, because she went on to say that her husband hasn’t touched her in so long, and she really wanted to be with somebody…and I just stood there. Mute. I was saved because somebody else came in looking for us because we’d been gone for a while.

There were 5 of us on that girls trip. She and I had reserved a double massage, so that we could talk alone about what was going on with our respective relationships in private. I had hoped that she would be too drunk to remember that she’d hit on me when we went back up for our massages. She wasn’t. She went on to say that it would be perfect because they would never guess, and if one or both of them got out of line, we had somebody to turn to. Somebody safe, somebody I already know. We’re both women, we know what we like… She’d been watching "The L Word," she could show me some things. (I’m STILL not sure what that meant…I’ve never seen that show, and I don’t think there is anything wrong with being lesbian, except you know…I’m not one. Nothing wrong with that, either)

I hurt her feelings. She said she came to me because she knows I am a curious kind, and thought that maybe I would be interested since I was in such a state of upheaval. I told her that I loved her AS MY FRIEND, and I was unwilling to complicate that with sex. (Why couldn’t I have said that in the OTHER situations?) Not to mention, it would change my friendship with her AND the way I thought of her. The three-some I had earlier? Never looked at him the same way, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t think of me the same as well. Sad, because we had been friends since we were young, but a lesson learned.

I felt bad that she was embarrassed and hurt, but I knew at that point, I had turned a corner. I was no longer thinking with my genitals or my bruised heart. I had come to realize there were consequences to my actions, even if they weren’t the ones I thought they’d be. And even though she said she’d never judge me, she did. She tried to take advantage of my vulnerability. Also sad, because it did ultimately change my view of her anyway.

We’re still friends, though not as close. I don’t really discuss my relationship with my husband with her anymore. I leave any nitty gritty details, and how I feel about them, to a therapist to deal with. And if she needs me to listen to her, I listen – even if I can’t always hear her because I’m screaming on the inside. But I try to keep those judgments to myself, because I know that when I was hurting, that was what I needed. I doubt we’ll ever be the same as we were, but that’s okay, because I’m actually a little bit grateful. I don’t know that I would have snapped back as quickly to who I really am if I hadn’t seen who SHE thought I was. And the thought of that person being the REAL me was too scary to consider.