This weekend X and I hosted a party which led to two things:

1. A now-former friend behaving like a cretin, especially towards X, leading to my excommunicating him. 2. The party turning great after he and his friend left.

X's already posted this regarding the incident, and I cannot better it in any way so go there to read the horrid facts.

I'll re-hash a few things anyway, because I'm still so fucking mad at him for this!

I just wish I'd done something more than nothing while he, stone-faced and brutal, told me that X must have been raped as a child in order to do what she did to him - referring to her not taking any more of his abuse, telling him to stop trying to get her to fetch things for him and calling her Maria (which he'd done numerous times). Incredible. Oh yeah, he stood up and decided to leave after that, after trying to force people into dancing, after having insulted one of our guests for having been diagnosed with ADHD, after... he stood up, went to the toilet, said that horrendous thing about the love of my life, then tried to slam the door in my face for us to discover that he'd actually locked the bathroom door from the outside, with Blixa inside! What a fucking cretin!

The day after, I received a text message from that person: "Thanks for yesterday. Nice shirt. [...] Hug."

I responded with an e-mail, excommunicating him forever.

I feel such shame for not having ousted him earlier, for not having reacted when he said those awful things about X, for not, somehow, standing up for myself. I know I should have. But he's gone now. The truth was, I must confess, that as he said those things, I just wanted him to leave the apartment so that he could be permanently out of my life; I figured, why not let him leave and just be rid of him? Forever. I just tried to calm down.

I still feel like a coward. I should have screamed at him and told him to fuck off forever and go die by means of self-mutilation, but I didn't. Well. Maybe I'll get over it.

And apart from wonderful X ending up in the middle of this, our friends were of course caught in the middle. It's one thing to be the host at a party and another to be a guest, to feel as though you're simply trying to get away from the shit-storm... Mentally ((And I have in other ways, I promise.)), I keep sending them a thousand apologies. I just hope they dare turn up at the next one.

I'll just let a picture I snapped of two of our wonderful friends from that evening spread warmth instead of damnation, leaving this post with more than a glimmer of love and hope, but the monumental wish to say that I really adore my friends, and X, who means everything to me. I love you.