my friend is a good person. my friend is and has been thoughtful, kind, and giving to me. my friend has done what he thought could be done to maintain a friendship with me. regardless my inability to understand why an open friendship was so impossible, and despite my anger over how things turn out and how it makes me feel, it remains that my friend is not a ‘bad person’ nor does he shoulder any ‘blame’ other than what might be held for maintaining secrecy.
it would be too simple and frankly, dishonest, to say otherwise. life is never cut and dry. things are never black and white. that part of me which aches and angers for what is lost cannot overwhelm the things i know of my friend.
not even when it would be easier to do so.
i miss my friend. i wish it could be different. but i am working on not wishing so much, since all it does is hurt me.
that is all.