Uncomfortable Complicity

I can’t think of any. I know that’s bullshitty to say, but it’s true. All I can think about are going along with a group of friends’ idea, what a restaurant to eat at or a what ride to go on first. Most of these times didn’t feel uncomfortable. If they did, there would be a little feeling of constraint or waiting for an “I told you so” moment while I calculated that staying with the group was better than not. Or if someone was talking shit about somebody, I would add in other qualifiers, “yeah, but he’s generally a good guy. He’s just trying.” I always use “just trying.” I use that because most people can’t make sense of the world they’re in or want to get out so all they can do is try. The result, however, may be mostly out of their hands. I wouldn’t be happy if someone was talking about me so objectively, and I know I do stuff that could bring it up.  The Golden Rule and the “if they jumped off a cliff would you do the same? No, you would not” thing was highly instilled in me from my parents. I watched so much Full House and Step by Step that I don’t have any after school specials of my own for this category. Situations like these are pretty simple—just look at the scene from the camera’s view, and you’ll see yourself looking like an asshole then feeling guilt in Act 2. Guilt for not pointing out what you think should be said and guilt for lying to yourself. You are supposed to be your best friend, after all, and if you lie to your best friend, what kind of person are you?

Who knows, maybe I do have a couple moments deep in my mind. I like to compartmentalize my bad memories. I have a set of them, each with a story arch, and that’s what I tell. So there could be some moment perfect for this prompt somewhere in my history, but I’m too lazy to—or maybe don’t feel it’s personally necessary to—dig up a bad memory at this time.