How to choose your friends wisely

They say you can't choose your family but when it comes to friends, most of us have freedom of choice. That's what makes friends so special.

Friendships help us develop as people, but the very term "friend" covers a whole range of relationships. You have a very close friendship with your partner but with others it may just be a common interest or history or simply children the same age. We all have friends with whom we share a common interest, like football or shopping, but such friendships are less profound than those with the ones we love for themselves or something in their character; the mates we can sit down with and share a meal or the ups and downs of life.

The advent of social networking sites such as Facebook has given rise to the idea that we can have almost limitless numbers of friends but this only serves to dilute the concept of friendship. I'm as guilty as the next person for adding people out of curiosity. After the initial dialogue, correspondence usually slows down to a trickle proving that when it comes to our circle of friends, quality is the most important factor, not quantity.

A strong friendship, like a successful marriage, is based on trust and honesty and is mutually beneficial but good friends can be hard to find. In 'How to choose your friends wisely', Sarah Letts recommends that you:

"Inquire about the person's family. Even if someone is not close with his family, you can learn a lot about him by the way he talks about them. If he comes across as

bitter or mean, it's a signal that he may have issues in relationships."

I've always considered myself to be a good judge of character, however I can't help wishing that I'd read that bit of advice before investing my time and effort in one particular person. The friend in question only ever had negative things to say about his nearest and dearest. His dad was 'a git' , his mum 'a pain', brother 'useless' and his wife 'a nasty piece of work'. I have to concede that there's certainly some truth in the idea that he has issues with relationships, so much so that he now relies on his wife to control who he see and when.

Whilst I can understand him wanting to keep his best friend / wife ( I use the BF term loosely here as I sense the marriage is based more on honour and convenience than friendship) happy, It saddens me to think that he has cast most of his decent friends aside. I used to feel hurt that I was one of the friends in question but when I remember his words "I've never been dumped - I always dump them before they get the chance", it all makes sense.

Time is a great healer

It wasn't so long ago that my mum used these words to reassure me. She could plainly see the hurt and anguish Lee was causing as long as I was still in contact with him. If I took her advice to cut all ties with him I would, she promised, soon be wondering what it was I ever saw in him.

Deep down, I sensed she was right, but I struggled with making that break. I've never been a great believer in burning bridges, however I knew that in order to put an end to the cycle Lee's half-baked apologies & excuses and my acceptance of/ forgiveness for them, I had to light the touchpaper. Perhaps using his wife as the ignition point was unfair, but as he'd never stuck to the rules, I felt justified.

It's been 9 months now since I brought things to a head and, although I'm not particularly proud of myself for the way I went about things, I realise that it was the only way to force Lee's head out of the sand. All around him desert storms were raging, yet he continued to bury himself so deep that I feared he would eventually suffocate.

Looking back at our relationship, I can see how I had ended up feeling asphyxiated. In the early days, talking to Lee was like a breath of fresh air. I guess the problems started when he kept insisting on turning that air blue with constant requests for me to watch him masterbate. The first time I conceded was more out of curiosity than anything. Maybe I was looking for proof that he was as Jewish as he claimed. His circumsized willy was, he claimed, for my eyes only. When I saw it again, unbeknown to him, I was using a different name (by this time I had created a new profile in UK Chatterbox). I did feel like a naive fool, and slightly jealous if I'm honest, but I figured that as a single guy, slightly lacking in terms of physical appearance, he had to take it where he could get it.

The idea of someone relieving his sexual frustration all over the desk in his back office is made sadder when you realise that the wanker in question has a wife of 2 years at home. I'd be mortified to think of my husband spending our honeymoon period in this way. It'll come as no surprise to learn that I fell for the old 'my wife doesn't understand me' line when Lee finally confessed to her existence. It's no wonder she didn't understand him. She barely knew him and the secret life he lead.

Obviously I didn't divulge Lee's more sordid actions when I contacted Miriam, I spared him that humiliation. I could've sent transcripts of all the things he said he'd like to do with me, but knowing that his wife has issues about her body, I didn't think it would do much for her self esteem.

During one of the last conversations I had with Lee he claimed that in spite of everything, he was glad he'd met me. I helped him. I made him see how a marriage should and can be and now he was taking steps put right his own. I'm glad I had my uses.

The burning smell of the bridge I had set alight left a bitter aftertaste. What I had believed to be a genuine friendship was coming to an end and I couldn't help feeling cheated. I searched for positive things that our relationship had given me but failed to find anything of great significance. I'd sent birthday cards, Christmas presents and a gift for his new born son, I'd welcomed him into my life, introduced him to my friends, been patient and forgiving but what did I get in return? I'll tell you. A few nice words which, it turned out, he only meant 'at the time'.

It took Lee a matter of weeks to recover from the feeling that he loved me and realise that I wasn't The One he professed me to be. Granted, it's taken longer for the wounds he inflicted on me to heal but, ironically, with the help of one of his friends, I'm well on the road to recovery.

Mr E

I sense a new reader. Best start writing again.

To the ghost readers of the ethereal writer......

......, welcome. I don't know how you finally ended up here but I'm always glad to receive new visitors. x

Dying for Spring

I feel dead inside. I'm just waiting for my body to catch up with my soul.

Betrayal

I was conscious that throughout this whole sorry 'affair', everyone has suffered feelings of betrayal, everyone apart from Lee that is. I thought it only fair that he too should experience the hurt that it causes, after all, it is impossible to have empathy with our loved ones until we have walked in their shoes.

I am disappointed in myself for stooping so low but I am learning to only give respect where it is due. After almost 4 years of being taken for a fool , lied to and ignored, I don't feel that Lee deserves any more of my respect.

Contemplation

If I don't write, I fear I'll do something stupid. I feel ready to explode but have to keep a lid on it for the kids' sake. When my phone vibrated during a lesson, to signal an incoming text, my curiosity got the better of me again. Pretending to check the time, I took a sneaky look at the message: ' please call me urgently re. available house buying funds'. I wish I hadn't bothered as it meant missing my break to call Pots. Clueless as to the whereabouts of all the relevant bank statements, he had to be guided through the house, by me, to locate them.

It annoys me that he's never bothered to help manage the home economics. I'm used to the idea that I'm expected to know the location of every sock, cleaning material, book or useful phone number in the house, however I resent being responsible for all things money related too.

By the time I arrived (late) at my next lesson, I was on the verge of tears. I'd stopped briefly to talk to Ali, who'd heard the tail end of my phone call and had asked how things were going. I'd been quite calm and matter of fact at first, but her sympathetic look and kind words tipped me over the edge. Damn.

The day has been getting steadily worse since then. I came home at lunch time to cry in private, only to find Pots' car on the drive. Sometimes it seems he's everywhere I turn. I feel hemmed in, suffocated and it's always more stifling at the weekend.

For two days each week, I face the reality of my life without distraction. Work provides me with a welcome escape from the sadness I feel at home. My whole existence feels to be in limbo and the pressure of the major decisions which rest on me is, quite honestly, too much to take. As I can't contemplate any sort of happy future for myself I have been considering the alternatives.

Agnosticism proves to be quite useful here because it means I don't have major moral issues about suicide. I know it's the coward's way out and I feel guilty that the loved ones I'll leave behind may suffer feelings of self-blame or loss. I'll be sure to remind them of my stubbornness in the note I leave. When I've made my mind up about something, I become unyielding. I'll also point out how their lives will be richer in my absence - it'll be my way of doing a bit of counselling from beyond the grave.

Pots will be able to enjoy living with his children in a mortgage free home, free to find a woman who will love him like he deserves to be loved. Pinky and Perky will be saved from their Mum's voice of doom, which thwarts them from dawn til dusk. Lee will have his dirty secrets taken to the grave, and will be able to enjoy life with his family without 'distraction'. I wonder, should a schedule a Moonpig card to be sent to him or Misriam, announcing my departure?