The Living Dead

I read this quote today:

"That I had hidden it for the eternity of my death in a Jewish place, a tomb I held sacred, the vast, fathomless tomb off-limits to traitors, those living dead of the fundamental betrayal."

It's an excerpt from Yann Andrea Steiner.

I don't know what Marguerite Duras means by "a Jewish place." I'm curious about that phrase because I can only guess at her meaning. As I was reading the excerpt, a phrase stuck with me, the "living dead of the fundamental betrayal." And to be honest, I feel foolish about writing this at all because some of the things Duras is writing about include the Holocaust, murder, and the cruelty of men and women. What I'm talking is miniscule compared to that. But I'll put it down anyway because that's what writing does. One person's writing, a phrase or an image, can make you think about your life or an idea, and influence or inspire you in a different direction. And even though what I'm talking about is not on the same level, it's what came to mind when I read the "living dead of the fundamental betrayal."

I tend to cut off people from my past, people I feel have betrayed me in some way. Maybe they cheated or lied or failed me in some fundamental way at a time when I really needed them. There have been various reasons. One of these old friends called me in the middle of the night once when I was in college. True to fashion, I was up late finishing a paper that was due the next day. I kept telling him I couldn't talk right at that moment because I had to finish this assignment. It was due early the next morning and I swore I'd call him back. I think we ended up hashing things out that night.

Essentially, he was angry with me because I'd ended our friendship after several erratic and scary interactions we'd had while he was on drugs. He was my boyfriend-at-the-time's friend and had hit on me. He had lashed out at me a few times. He had paced outside my window one night doing whippets and muttering strange things when I was alone at home. He had an outburst in a grocery store that caused him and my boyfriend-at-the-time to be escorted out of the store by security. There was a long list of uncomfortable behavior.

I cut him off.

I told my boyfriend I was done with his friend. So the friend was angry and hurt (and no doubt on some pharmaceutical) when he called me at 3 in the morning demanding I explain what I was doing ending my friendship with him with no discussion. I can't remember what he said exactly, but he said I did this all the time. When someone disappointed me, I didn't give second chances. He listed examples. He said I wasn't a true friend if I couldn't overlook people's flaws and forgive them.

I thought he had some good points. Everything he said was true. But everything I said was true, too. I didn't like worrying every time I hung out with him, especially if we were in a public place, that he would have an outburst. I didn't appreciate being propositioned at random times or being groped. I didn't like being yelled at.

But I've been thinking about that conversation lately. Should I have tried to help him more? Should I have staged an intervention? Should I have called his parents and told them about his out of control drug use? Should I have been a friend to him despite his increasingly erratic behavior?

It's true I don't give many second chances. I've been trying to figure out why this is. I'm curious about my own motivations. Is it to protect myself? Is it a lack of patience (I think this might have a lot to do with it; I'm impatient about a lot of things)? I think there could be many different reasons, and often are specific to the friendship or situation. But I've been wondering about the "living dead" from my own past lately.

I was chatting with my friend Katy today about this. For me, a serious hurt or betrayal sort of "flips a switch." After the event, I feel differently about the person and I can't go back. I've been thinking about this a lot because I married someone who isn't that way at all. Much more forgiving, much more willing to give second chances, and, generally speaking, a much kinder person.

Maybe that's why we married each other?