From the time we were 3-years-old, Adam (a pseudonym) and I were friends. He lived four doors down, and being the same age, we had many things in common. Over the years, we attended the same and different schools, at varying intervals of our parents design, but from that time through middle school we were the best of friends. He came to every one of my birthday parties, and traveled with us in more than one family vacation. For a time he had moved away, but after little more than a year, returned. On summer days and weekend afternoons, we were inseparable. While our interests were not always perfectly aligned, friendship seemed the easiest of things to maintain.

Upon leaving middle school, we were among only five alumni to go to the same high school, and one of those a girl, hardly counted. The summer before, at our parents ridiculous urging, we all attended summer school together, and noted implicitly that if we hung together, this intimidating transition would be made easier. As the cruelty of our parents ensued, we enrolled in two succeeding summer classes, and this is where perhaps we were to drift apart. For the second class, my parents could not commit to driving me out to the school, nor participate in the carpool, so I had to take my course at the local school, and ride my bike for the four weeks. While Adam and my other friends became further integrated into our new school, I admittedly struggled in a class of peers who would not be peers for long; an outsider, destined for the crosstown rival school. As you can imagine it was less than fun, but I endured, buoyed by the notion that after these four weeks, Adam and I would have at least one class together as freshmen.

As you may be guessing now, the path of this long friendship did not progress as I had imagined it would. In the past, I had grown apart form other friends, and while unpleasant, I understood that that was a part of growing up. However, within 2 months, Adam had not drifted away, but turned the tables entirely, crossing from friend to bitter enemy and rival. I can honestly say that I have no idea what begat this change, save for a couple ideas that drifted into my consciousness a long time after. What was once a fruitful friendship, Adam had perverted as a means to harangue, embarrass, and ridicule. He had taken it upon himself to make my high school experience hell, and sadly succeeded far beyond that which I ever let him see. More than simple abandonment, he had turned new and existing friends against me, and made it harder to make newer friends still. I wish I could say that this was short-lived, but for three years this carried on, not tapering until my senior year, where I could plausibly and logistically avoid him, though not entirely. I do not propose that I did not to perpetuate the feud, at times striking back through the petty proxy wars that litter the high school landscape, but I cannot honestly fathom my role in the genesis of this turn. If I have any chip on on my shoulder, it is this malicious betrayal, its wounds dug deep and and healed slowly.

After high school, we thankfully went in divergent directions, geographically and in life. While I have not kept tabs, I have occasionally heard bits of information from my parents, his brother, or mutual friends, what few there were left. The experience has stood as a lesson to me, and perhaps most clearly demonstrate why I make it so hard for people to actually know me. Some of you think you have a good idea, but I suggest you really only know me through a heavily veiled and expertly erected façade. Many of those attributes you may think of as being classical examples of me, are more likely than not illusions and misdirection. That is the scar I carry with me still, an able costume and stolid shield.

Nevertheless, I have moved on, or at least I thought I had. Late last week, Adam submitted a friend request via my Facebook profile. I am rather discriminant about who I accept as friends through the site, going so far as to purge connections occasionally. While I have moved across the country, I rely on Facebook more than I would have imagined to keep in the loop and up to date with the goings on back home. By-and-large, the connections are not superficial, and I do not add friends lightly or at random. Thus when this request came through, I was left at an unexpected crossroads.

On the one hand, I thought (perhaps wrongly) that I had forgiven, but it now appears this may not have been wholly true. Thus, with forgiveness, adding Adam to my friends list may offer the opportunity to dialogue and forgive whatever transgressions that led up to and embodied the four years of animosity. I'd like to think that I have released any animus, and have moved on, but now a suspicious doubt has emerged.

On the other hand, the apparent ease with which such requests are made angers me. Has he forgotten the malevolence he wrought upon me for so long? Did he not see the hurt and harm it caused me then? Does he think that by simply making the request, that that should suffice as some form of apology?

It is clearer to me now that I had not forgiven, nor forgotten, the past strife between us. Part of me aches for an explanation, though perhaps he has none. Part of me demands apology, but expects little and knows how difficult apology can be. Most of me wants to be able to put all of this behind me, wash my hands of it and start anew; I thought I had. Mostly, I'd like to forget. Until I decide what it is I should do, the request will linger, status "pending." It is a silent reminder that I can never escape my past, and for me to honestly address my present and future. It reminds me the cruel power of malice, and forewarns me against its use. It demonstrates the power of friendship where it has blossomed, and where it has failed. It reminds me love and to never hate, to be patient, and to be accepting. It reminds me to be cautious in trust, but that trust I must do.

(I'd like to thank a new and special friend for taking the time to hear me out last week, offering a kind ear, and valuable insight. You know who you are.)