On The Road

It's always unpleasant when you quarrel with a friend over a particularly thorny issue.

It's worse, however, when you simply bottle it up, swallow it, and try to forget the entire business.

In secondary school, I remember the day I walked into the teacher's room and found my classmate reading the journal I had just submitted to my teacher. It was a private journal, and the intrusion into my privacy was a stinging slap to the face.

Yet, instead of confronting him, I just turned around and walked away. I guess at that point whatever kinship I shared with him simply evaporated, taking with it any trust, affection and friendship. Nothing has changed, after all this time.

That particular bad habit of avoiding confrontation has stayed with me. On the few occasions I've ventured to openly confront a friend over a problem we have, my temper takes over and I find I'm no longer as charitable, kind or pleasant as I want to be.

For a long time this particular foreign relations policy seemed workable - cherish the friends who are true, be cordial to the ones who you aren't sure about.

But it isn't, and it's not hard to see why. Daryl asked me an innocent-enough question the other day, and instead of being frank and honest with him as an old friend deserves, I subconsciously doubted his intentions and raised my defenses sky-high.

I'm ashamed of myself for even questioning his motives.

My flame is flickering.