Commander Cream #8

I would walk through fire for any of my friends and feel privileged to have the opportunity. I really feel as though my friends are these amazing people with one blind spot: fortunately I fit very neatly within that spot. I won't get into too much detail, but my friends are willing to listen to me whine at 1:00 am, are willing to drive through blizzards so that I won't spend a holiday alone and are willing to wait in the hospital for 37 hours straight with me. But will I lie to them? In some cases, yes.

I feel as though I should just repost my last entry. In that circumstance, I lied to Katie, and I have no regrets about that. What would our conversation have been like otherwise?

Katie: "Holy shit, what happened to you?"
Commander C: "Well last night when I tried to keep you from driving, you flew into a drunken rage and attacked me."
Katie: "I'm so sorry Commander C..."

What would the truth have accomplished? Katie is normally a very gentle person. One evening full of extenuating circumstances doesn’t change that. With the story I told, I endured a few jokes at my own expense about my clumsiness. I'd much rather endure the oh so clever (re: annoying) ribbing from my teammates than have to explain to Katie what had happened. Or worse, face losing her friendship because she felt guilty. (This really was a one-time occurrence. I had never seen Katie violent before nor have I since that incident.)

Katie never knew that I lied to her. However, I have been forced to lie to a friend, knowing that they would catch the lie. I once lost a good friend when I lied. Before I lost him, I thought that I knew him: I was wrong. His favorite possession was a beat up leather jacket. I never saw him without it. Rain or shine, he clung more tightly to that jacket than a toddler to a security blanket. I eventually found out why.

I’m not sure whether he intentionally showed me his arms or whether it was an accident. It was certainly the first time I saw him without his jacket on. I will never forget what I saw. His arms were covered in parallel scars. Some where white and thick: long healed over. More concerning were the deeper, raw red scars that showed clearly against his pale skin. Perhaps it was good that we were alone, for when I saw them, I was so shocked that everyone would have noticed my reaction. I hesitantly brought up the issue.

And then I learned the truth. The friend that I thought I knew so well was very unhappy. So unhappy that he had found a solution to his situation. He made me swear not to tell anyone. I told him that I cared too much about him to keep it a secret. He still demanded my word. Eventually I gave it to him. Something in his feverish blue eyes told me that if I told anyone, I would lose him as a friend. Fortunately, his eyes also revealed that if I kept silent, I would lose him more permanently.

I ditched my next class (US Government- ick, what a waste of time) and went to the counseling office. I was fortunate: our counseling office was actually well-staffed with well-trained professionals. So I told them what I had seen and what I had learned.

The next time I saw my friend, he looked through me as though I did not exist. I have never felt so invisible in my life. But I kept seeing him around for the next two years. He never spoke to me again. He never saw me after that either. He was alive, though. I don’t regret breaking my word to him. I don’t regret that I lied. I do regret the loss of a friend.