Tell me about that story you hate to hear

“I don’t think we should be friends.”

“Why?”

“You’re not good for me. The way you acted after, defending yourself, feels toxic.”

“I wanted you to know some small glimmer of positivity in my life. How is that so bad?”

“You should’ve waited to tell me when my life is going better.”

“What if that’s in several weeks? Or months? I thought good friends told each other everything. Good and bad and in between.”

“Yes. You wait to tell me your good news until I feel better.”

“What if things aren’t good in weeks? Months? You’re ok with me just keeping in everything until everything passes? Sometimes life is bad and sometimes it’s not. But, I wasn’t bragging, I wasn’t trying to make you feel bad. I just thought it was a matter you’d appreciate.”

“You don’t laugh at someone’s funeral. Do you?”

“Getting a job is not a funeral. If someone important in your life died, that’s different. Of course the way I would handle our conversation would be different in that cir-”

“It’s not getting a job. It is my life. My whole life is changed. You have someone to pay your bills. I don’t.”

‘You know that I have had tremendous experience with financial abuse, physical and emotional. Yet you throw it in my face that you think my life is somehow better. I’ve told you of my past and very present issues. I just wanted a small moment of recognition for a small joy.’

I don’t say that, though.

Days of lingering silence as I doubt my ability to understand what happened.

“We’re not good for each other. I still think we should be apart.”