The Kitten In the Cactus

I think one of the most difficult situations is one where you must provide comfort to someone while simultaneously causing pain to yourself.

I call it “rescuing the kitten in the cactus” because it’s excruciating as hell, but sometimes you have to do it. What I am talking about of course, is when you have feelings for someone and they either don’t like you in that way or they don’t know it yet (but it’s not a good time to reveal that information). I recently had a friend (who I’ve harbored some intermittent heart palpitations for) confess to me his undying love for some tramp that broke his heart years ago. He metaphorically cried on my shoulder via text message (such a strange communication method for an Oprah-style conversation), and although I guess I didn’t have to, I do care about him and I wanted to be the good friend. Now, I’ve made it clear several times in the past that I’d be cool with dating him but he always retreats or changes the subject. I don’t have to be C-3P0 – or fluent in six million forms of communication – to know his answer is probably: “No. Like never.”

In any case, I can’t help but hold back the bitter swallow when someone is lamenting their shitty situation and I’m thinking, “What am I? Chopped liver?”

Well, I guess I am. So come here and seek refuge in the cold comfort of my chopped liver hug, you goddam bastard.