Angie is the best roommate I've ever had.  She's bright and friendly and I've never heard her say a mean thing about anyone.  Matter of fact, I'd never seen her upset, truly upset, except when her father died.  

Her father dying just about killed her.  They were very close, and when he died the light went out of her pale green eyes for a while.  We had just become roommates when her father died.  She was a rock, taking care of all the funeral details for her distraught mother, until the day after the funeral.  After that day, I remember seeing her skulk around the apartment, her long dark blonde hair and clothes unkempt.  Several days went by and, deeply worried, I called all her friends.  Between us, we were able to pull her out of her depression.  

It's been almost three years since her father's death.  Sure, Angie's had some bad days, but she's never fallen into such a deep depression again.  That is, until about three weeks ago.  

It started on a Saturday.  She left to meet up with some friends and go to the fair.  I was supposed to go but I got a nasty case of the flu.  She came home early and went straight to her room, stopping only long enough to ask how I was feeling.  Angie never responded when I asked how the day went.  No matter what I tried to draw her out, she stayed in that room until it was time to go to work the next day.

When she got home from work, she went back into her room and didn't come out.  I have to admit, I was worried and a little bit frustrated.  I called Jack, the person who had invited us to the fair, to see if he knew what had happened.  He did, but not really.  

Yeah, it doesn't make much sense.  He didn't make much sense to me at the time, either.  That is until he explained that Angie's best friend, Cathy, had been having a discussion with Angie and another friend, Pam, when she suddenly said she didn't want to go after all and left.  Angie was Cathy's ride so of course she ran after her to try and find out why she was upset or at least give her a ride home.  Jack told me Cathy told Angie to leave her alone and stalked off.  He wasn't really sure what set off Cathy.  As far as he could tell the conversation was lively but wasn't anywhere close to an argument.  

I tried to call Cathy but she hung up on me.  

I thought about what I knew for over an hour.  I've known Cathy for almost as long as I've known Angie and I guessed I could figure out what set her off.  Boy, was I wrong.  After an hour I still had no clue so I decided to talk to Angie.  

It took a lot of coercing, but I finally got Angie to come out of her room.  She looked awful, her eyes were red and puffy,  and her nose was running.  She looked like she'd been crying since she stepped into her room.  Funny thing is, she didn't know what she was upset about.  All she knew was that Cathy was furious with her and not talking to her.  Angie didn't know why Cathy was upset.  She couldn't think of anything she said to upset her, either.  

Angie told me she'd tried to contact Cathy.  When she called her, Cathy hung up the phone.  She sent her several e-mail messages and Cathy sent them all back unanswered.  Tomorrow she was going to try sending her a letter.  When I asked her why she was putting herself through this she told me, "Some how I have to make her understand that I never meant to hurt her."

"What did you do to hurt her?"

"I don't know.  I've been going over and over what we said and I can't think of anything I said that would upset her so much."

"Maybe it's because you didn't do anything wrong."  

Angie's answer made me want to scream.  "I must have.  Why else would she be so mad at me?"

Why else indeed.  I could think of several reasons.  Cathy works with a lunatic, at least that's how she describes the woman, and complains about her all the time.  She's been getting a lot of static from that person.  She's probably also PMSing.  

Angie and I, being roommates, share the same period cycle.  I know a lot of people don't think it's true but women who work and or live together do tend to fall into the same cycle.  Cathy may not live or work with us but she spends a lot of time with Angie.  They've always thought it was approrpiate that her period fell into line with ours.  

That's how I knew Cathy was probably PMSing.  If I am, than she is.  Cathy, though, always gets hit with wild mood swings when her period comes.  I've seen her flip out over the tiniest thing.  I mean screaming in anger because one of her cats knocked over a salt shaker.  It wouldn't surprise me if she took something that Angie said the wrong way and blew it all out of proportion.  I've seen her do that before as well.  

I tried to tell all of this to Angie but she wouldn't listen to me.  She insisted that Cathy wouldn't get so mad at her if she didn't deserve it.  Finally, I just let it go.  I stayed close and offered what comfort I could.  I know, though, that she cried herself to sleep that night.  And for several others after that.  She sent her letter to Cathy but she never heard from her.  At least Cathy didn't send it back to her.  I doubt she read it, though.    
 
Three weeks went by and Angie finally pulled herself back together.  That's when the real blow struck.  She ran into Cathy at the grocery store.  Cathy even started the conversation, although from what Angie told me it was just the typical weather variety talk.  Angie asked Cathy what she had said to upset her so much.  Cathy's answer stunned us both.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?  You said nothing and that's why she's mad?"

"No," Angie said, tears streaming down her face.  "It wasn't something I said but something Pam said."  

"You're kidding."

"Oh, no.  I didn't do anything wrong.  Cathy was just too angry about what Pam said and didn't want to think about it."  Angie slammed her hand against the table.  

As quickly as the anger came, it passed again.

"She at least apologized for putting me in the middle," Angie said.

"Did she apologize for not telling you that she wasn't mad at you?  Did you at least tell her how much not talking to you hurt?"

Angie wiped the tears from her face.  "No," she whispered.  

I waited a few minutes to try and give her time to compose herself before asking, "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know.  Forgive her, I guess."

Forgive her!  I couldn't believe it.  She was going to forgive someone who put her through so much pain for no reason at all.  "That makes you a much better person than I am," I told her.  "I wouldn't forgive someone for treating me like a doormat."

Angie bristled.  "She didn't treat me that badly."

"The hell she didn't!  You cried yourself to sleep for more nights than I can count.  You tried to call her and she hung up on you.  You've sent her e-mail and snail mail and she's never responded to you.  She treated you like hell and you're just going to take it."

"What else can I do?" Angie cried.

"Move on.  Drop her as a friend."  

Angie scrubbed at both eyes.  "I can't do that.  She's been my best friend since grade school."  

"So what?"  

"So what??"  Angie's shoulders lifted and her hands raised before she dropped them in defeat.  "I can't just forget she was my friend."

"I'm not telling you to.  I'm just telling you that if she were a true friend she wouldn't have put you through so much pain just because she was mad at someone else."  

Angie was quiet for several minutes.  She walked over to the sofa and dropped on it.  In a tiny voice she said, "Maybe."

I heard the fear in her voice and it surprised me.  I sat in front of her on the floor and took her hands in mine.  I waited until she looked at me before saying, "Just what are you afraid of?"

She shrugged.  "Losing a friend."

"You've been afraid of that for three weeks.  Maybe it's time to decide that the friendship isn't worth saving."

"No.  I can't do that."

"Why not?"

Angie squeezed my hands until they hurt.  She kept squeezing and I kept silent.  I knew she had to get this out.  Finally, she said, "I've never lost a friend before.  Not like this, anyway."  She shrugged.  "I mean, I've lost friends when they've moved away.  But this is different."

"How?"

"She's my best friend," she said, dropping her head back down.  "I've known her longer than I've known anyone."

"Angie, look at me."  She lifted her head and I saw the tracks the tears had left in her makeup.  "You deserve better than this."  She shook her heard.  "Yes you do.  Would you have treated Cathy this way?"
 

"No," she whispered.  

"You shouldn't let her treat her this way, either."  

"It's just. . ." She pulled her hands from mine and ran them through her hair.  "I can't think of a time when she wasn't my friend.  We were inseparable.  Who am I without her?"

"You're Angie Youngston.  You are a compassionate, loving person.  You don't need her to define yourself."

Angie sat quietly for a few minutes.  She nodded once and then once again.  "You're right."  She wiped the tears from her face and took a deep breath.  "I don't deserve to be treated this way and I don't have to define myself by her."

"So you'll break off your friendship with Cathy?"

"No."  She took another deep breath.  "If she wants to still be friends I'll be her friend."

"But. . ."

Angie held up a hand and stopped my next thought from escaping my mouth.  "I'll be her friend, but I won't be her best friend."  She walked into the kitchen and got herself a glass of water.  "And I won't apologize again for something I didn't do," she said before taking a drink.  

I walked up behind her and gave her shoulders a hug.  "Good.  If you ever need anyone to talk to, you know where to find me."

For the first time in three weeks, Angie smiled.  "Thanks for helping me see what a true friend is."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and said, "Any time."

finis

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