I’d always been afraid of being the party who was dumped in a relationship, even a platonic one. After a childhood where I was blamed for seemingly every misfortune that befell me, I felt that I needed to accommodate everyone in my circle of friends at all times.
Thus, I would often not speak out privately and even apologize when I knew I was right, just to keep the peace. At a certain point, however, I knew that I could no longer tolerate abusive behavior, and that there were times where rejection from someone I considered a friend was the biggest blessing.
I learned this lesson with a compatriot I shall call Eddie. While he had a number of wonderful qualities, when his mother died, his propensity toward narcissistic expectations and the
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