It is 2.a.m and I’m in the middle of a bad dream. It’s my wedding day and people are gathered at the church, waiting for me. They are all panicking, wondering where I am. I am in my bed and for some reason, I can’t get up. Suddenly, I hear bells ringing very close to my bed. I wake up to the sound of my phone ringing. I am mad at the world. How unlucky do I have to be that even in a dream, I don’t get married? On the other end of the line is Sarah, one of my closest friends. She is sniffing and panting. Someone must be dead, says my pessimistic mind. “Damn you death, you ill-mannered being. Who did you take now?” I think to myself before picking up the phone. “What’s wrong, Sarah?” “You won’t believe this! Richard is cheating on me. I just found some romantic messages from some girl on his phone.” I apologise to death and ask him to carry the insult forward because I know that sooner or later, he is bound to take someone I know. I listen to Sarah as she rants about how she has always suspected that there was something going on between Richard and the girl. Then I stop listening and the sound of her voice fades into the background. It starts to sound like the buzzing of bees. I start alternating between drifting off to sleep and wondering about the most polite way to say, “It’s 2a.m. and I need to sleep. Can we just get to the bottom line?” At 3:30a.m., she finally explains the reason why she called. “I want to go and tell that girl to stay away from my man. I want you to come with me.” Now I’m wide awake and fully alert. Exactly what role does she expect me to play? Will I stand there as a security guard and join in a fight if one ensues? What if I go to jail? I can’t afford to go to jail. It’s already hard enough to find a good man without being an ex-convict. Am I supposed to be a heckler? A silent force of intimidation? What’s my role exactly? Sarah is agitated that I’m asking these questions. She says I’m being inconsiderate, insensitive and unsympathetic. She is right. Maybe it’s because I’m shocked. I’m shocked that she is shocked that her boyfriend is cheating, again. Two years ago, I went crying to Sarah. No, what I was doing wasn’t crying, it was wailing. I had found out that my boyfriend was cheating. My heart was in tatters. She said that I was overreacting because “all men cheat.” We agreed to disagree. For as long as I have known Richard, he has been cheating on that girl. Here now, comes my crime, the reason why Sarah isn’t talking to me. I just asked her the question, “If you believe that all men cheat, and since Richard has done it many times, why are you surprised or even upset that he has done it again?” Well, she is now waiting for an apology. And me? I’m just waiting for a response to my question.
