Good cop, bad cop

He thinks I am such an amazing friend (or, he knows I am dying after him but pretends we’re just great friends). He has a problem right now. I spend hours on the phone, or chatting, trying to help. Today he was particularly angry, and rambled endlessly for two hours, and dismissed all my help, my psychological support, my attempts to put things into perspective. He was just beyond helping.

A few hours later he phoned again, all sweetness and light. “What happened? Did you drink? Did you take a pill or something?”

“No, I phoned M., and she simply told me to stop whining, and then changed the subject! Haha! She’s bright, that girl!”.

Now I am broken-hearted and past helping.

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