When I was 12 or so I went to a birthday party for a kid from my class. When I got there, the house was empty except for a couple of other friends. His mother was drunk hadn’t planned anything. (His father wasn’t in the picture…never met him)
That night, we played pool and had a good time. It wasn’t until years later I found out about his mom that night.
The next month, his house caught fire. He stayed at my house for a couple of days while his mom found a new place to live.
The old place was fixed and he moved back in. A year later it exploded one day while he was at school.
And yet through all this hardship, he was a fair-weather friend and a backstabber. He wouldn’t hesitate to sell someone out or short if it benefitted him.
And whenever I think about this, I end up not knowing what to think, really.
