Nice Save?

I am trying to train myself not to go for the low blow on the first offense.

Last night I was testing out the theories I've formed in therapy about my relationship with Ms. F. by hanging out at her place. Things were fine at first; for about 3/4ths of the visit, it was perfect. Mr. R. was there, but not in the foreground, and since I'd recently spent time with him, that was fine with me. I didn't feel cheated or anything. Another woman whom I'll call Jabberwocky was also in attendance (an efficient way for Ms. F. to collapse her social calendar and see us both, hence jw's presence). We had a light repast at the coffeeshop across from Ms. F.'s apartment, then headed back over to her place to watch a tape of the Academy Awards.

After it was over, Mr. R. emerged from his room and hung out a bit with us. I felt myself morphing into a cheap version of Ally McBeal--telling anecdotes in a subtly maniachal way (yes, there is such a thing as subtle mania), and felt internally histrionic. Jabberwocky is on the precipice of a divorce, having been recently diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and having a spouse who is not quite able to deal with this diagnosis, so this is all causing her to emanate need from every pore... At one point she just turns to Mr. R. and says "you know my husband left me, and I was hospitalized... but I'm better now..."

She started soliciting Mr. R. for trips to the "free bookstore" for this Saturday morning, and while I discerned nothing in the way of "intentions" on her part, I started feeling undermined. Vaguely disconcerted, if you will. It wasn't until talk turned to Ms. F.'s bridal shower (obviously not a surprise) to be held this Saturday afternoon that things "got bad."

He commented that he'd need to make himself scarce, and as some kind of joke or something, Ms. F said that he'd be missing out on an opportunity to meet and interact with a bunch of girls and how could he pass that up? He didn't actually respond, but I felt betrayed. Not by him, but by my friend, who the last time she spoke to me about my feelings for him, was told that they are unchanged. Granted, I haven't discussed this with her in a while, but it just felt like a gross oversight--even if it was only said in fun.

I did have the presence of mind to ascertain that I wasn't freaking out nearly as much as I would have say, 6 months ago. Thank God for small favours.

But I hadn't had a chance, yet, to exact punishment--and when burned, I always go for the wound, even if I go for it long after the offending incident. I wasn't aware of waiting for the opportunity, but the speed with which I pounced on it once it came was frighteningly telling.

Mr. R. commented that he would be nervous about singing at the wedding, so Ms. F. suggested that maybe I could sit near him and push him upright if he looked as though he was about to topple during the ceremony. Without hesitating, I said "I don't know if I'm coming." And I let that sink in for a second. Then I told Ms. F. I would let her know well in advance, but I just wasn't sure. I was too much of a coward to leave it at that, though. I said something about having Social Anxiety Disorder (which I do not have)--and this was why I was sitting on the fence.

After a judicious pause, I said I'd only been joking while Ms. F. scrambled to let me know she'd be disppointed, but would understand, because she knew how tense parties made me. I explained that parties annoy me because I hate making small talk. I think I finished up with "Look. I obviously don't have SAD, and I will be at your wedding... this was all just a joke gone bad..."

I am reminded of a line from a Jane Kenyon poem in which she says "astonishing how even a little violence eases the mind."