The last philosophy paper I ever wrote was on the subject of knowing. In it, I described that knowledge is, as most philosophers have maintained, "justified true belief." According to this definition of knowledge, in order to know that, say, Rob lied to me about having $450 in his possession, 1)I have to be justified in having this assumption, 2) it must be true that Rob does not have $450 in his possession, and, 3) I must believe that Rob does not have $450 in his possession.
All of these, unfortunately, have been proven true...
(Some background: Rob and I had an argument about his inability to tell the truth. He claimed to have earned and saved $450. I told him to prove it; I said he should take a cab to my place at that moment and - very reminiscent of Jerry Maguire - show me the money. He declined. A few days later, he got drunk and came to my house in order to confess that he'd lied about having the money. Big surprise!)
But that's not what I'm really thinking about. What I'm thinking about are the several conversations I've had since that fateful argument with Rob. I'm thinking about my friends' reactions. I'm thinking about friendship, in general (but I'll leave those thoughts to another post).
Wiccan Swinger simply laughed and shook her head when I told her the unabridged version of the story, thus expressing the idea "Whatcha gonna do? You already know what he's like..."
Military Mother laughed nervously and said, "I told you he's a weirdo!" (Strangely, the more I stay in contact with Rob, the less insulted I feel when my friends make these judgments about him.)
Best Guy Friend casually mouthed "Oh my God", and by that he meant "What a pussy. Why doesn't he just owe up to shit in the first place?" (An elaboration of this reaction would include, "Why does he have to prove you right?")
Tall Afro calmly listened to my story right after the events took place, and he said simply, "You expect too much of him. You know what he's like. Tailor your expectations. That way, you won't be disappointed."
Texti offered another explanation: maybe Rob had the money, but I'd pushed him too far and he'd decided that he wouldn't put up with any more of my requests. She said, philosophically, "You never know."
It's that last one that really hit a nerve.
I did know.
I do know Rob.
Even more so, I know what I have with him.
Maybe I was insulted at the idea that I'd pushed him too far. Maybe I didn't want to think that I'd fucked up somehow or that I was wrong or that someone had seen a facet of my relationship that I hadn't noticed.
Whatever the reason, I was put on the defensive when faced with these possibilities. I felt myself tensing when Texti said matter-of-factly that what I have with Rob isn't love. I found myself passively offering agreements - "I'm not in love with him..." - that needed qualification - "...anymore." - instead of allowing my hurt feelings to show. I was afraid that I'd sound condescending or cliche if I implied that she didn't know what she was talking about. I was ashamed of the very-real possibility that I'd sound brash or berating if I asked her to elaborate on her assumptions.
Instead of thinking that Texti was simply giving me a legitimate alternative opinion, I immediately assumed she didn't have faith in my abilities of people-reading.* Instead of opening up a discussion and airing out my feelings, I took what was said in stride and let the words eat at me. Instead of confronting the truth - no matter how much we joke about being variations of the same person, there are bound to be miscommunications - I waded in denial. All of that was wrong of me.
All of these, unfortunately, have been proven true...
(Some background: Rob and I had an argument about his inability to tell the truth. He claimed to have earned and saved $450. I told him to prove it; I said he should take a cab to my place at that moment and - very reminiscent of Jerry Maguire - show me the money. He declined. A few days later, he got drunk and came to my house in order to confess that he'd lied about having the money. Big surprise!)
But that's not what I'm really thinking about. What I'm thinking about are the several conversations I've had since that fateful argument with Rob. I'm thinking about my friends' reactions. I'm thinking about friendship, in general (but I'll leave those thoughts to another post).
Wiccan Swinger simply laughed and shook her head when I told her the unabridged version of the story, thus expressing the idea "Whatcha gonna do? You already know what he's like..."
Military Mother laughed nervously and said, "I told you he's a weirdo!" (Strangely, the more I stay in contact with Rob, the less insulted I feel when my friends make these judgments about him.)
Best Guy Friend casually mouthed "Oh my God", and by that he meant "What a pussy. Why doesn't he just owe up to shit in the first place?" (An elaboration of this reaction would include, "Why does he have to prove you right?")
Tall Afro calmly listened to my story right after the events took place, and he said simply, "You expect too much of him. You know what he's like. Tailor your expectations. That way, you won't be disappointed."
Texti offered another explanation: maybe Rob had the money, but I'd pushed him too far and he'd decided that he wouldn't put up with any more of my requests. She said, philosophically, "You never know."
It's that last one that really hit a nerve.
I did know.
I do know Rob.
Even more so, I know what I have with him.
Maybe I was insulted at the idea that I'd pushed him too far. Maybe I didn't want to think that I'd fucked up somehow or that I was wrong or that someone had seen a facet of my relationship that I hadn't noticed.
Whatever the reason, I was put on the defensive when faced with these possibilities. I felt myself tensing when Texti said matter-of-factly that what I have with Rob isn't love. I found myself passively offering agreements - "I'm not in love with him..." - that needed qualification - "...anymore." - instead of allowing my hurt feelings to show. I was afraid that I'd sound condescending or cliche if I implied that she didn't know what she was talking about. I was ashamed of the very-real possibility that I'd sound brash or berating if I asked her to elaborate on her assumptions.
Instead of thinking that Texti was simply giving me a legitimate alternative opinion, I immediately assumed she didn't have faith in my abilities of people-reading.* Instead of opening up a discussion and airing out my feelings, I took what was said in stride and let the words eat at me. Instead of confronting the truth - no matter how much we joke about being variations of the same person, there are bound to be miscommunications - I waded in denial. All of that was wrong of me.
*****
Today I had lunch with one of the people I've wronged, Crystal. Over a yummalicious sundae, we evaluated the tumultuous path our relationship has gone. We've both said and done many hurtful things in the past, and now that we've rekindled our friendship, we're working on determining what kind of friends we are, i.e., for a reason, for a season, or for a lifetime.
At one point, I suggested that we could be the best friends each other has ever had. Given our history - we once got into a fight which resulted in my having bruised ribs and her needing stitches on her face - anyone other than Crystal would've thought I was joking. But she and I both knew that I was being sincere. Like Pip's secret benefactor in Great Expectations, our behind-the-scenes actions make us uniquely qualified for the title of "best friends."
She laughed at the suggestion, nodding her head all the while. "You'd think it'd be easy to know who your best friend is," the world-weary woman stated.
"You'd think so..." I agreed, slurping up caramel topping.
"...but it's definitely not as easy as it sounds!" she chuckled with a lift and a twitch of her eyebrow.
We exchanged knowing looks, then erupted in riotous and pregnant laughter.
At one point, I suggested that we could be the best friends each other has ever had. Given our history - we once got into a fight which resulted in my having bruised ribs and her needing stitches on her face - anyone other than Crystal would've thought I was joking. But she and I both knew that I was being sincere. Like Pip's secret benefactor in Great Expectations, our behind-the-scenes actions make us uniquely qualified for the title of "best friends."
She laughed at the suggestion, nodding her head all the while. "You'd think it'd be easy to know who your best friend is," the world-weary woman stated.
"You'd think so..." I agreed, slurping up caramel topping.
"...but it's definitely not as easy as it sounds!" she chuckled with a lift and a twitch of her eyebrow.
We exchanged knowing looks, then erupted in riotous and pregnant laughter.
*****
One of my favorite authors, Frank O'Connor, wrote that "marriage is a secret between two people." I take that to mean that it doesn't matter how many people observe the relationship; it doesn't matter how much information is shared about the relationship; it doesn't matter what similar events and/or relationships you've experienced.
O'Connor meant that the experience of a particular relationship can only be known to the two people in the relationship. And that makes sense.
In many ways, our status and/or survival is dependent on our people-reading abilities, so we pride ourselves on "knowing" things about people - " I knew Angelina Jolie was strange! It was the way she did that scene..." - because it's proof of this skill. Artists attempt to break down the simplest experience into a (meta)physical study, in order to shine understanding on a universal truth. Even our daily interactions form subconscious judgments of people and what they're about.
But friendships, marriages, teacher-student relationships, and everything else in between-
Well, these relationships can only be known to the people in it. Everyone else might believe something about the relationship, and their belief might even be superficially true. But who is justified to make these assumptions? Who can really know what Rob and I have? Or what Texti and I have? Or what Crystal and I have?
No one, but us.
* But, more than that, the phrase "You never know", when said about a provable statement, really irks me.
2 comments:
Hm.
I can see how youd take offense to what I said -- and for that, I am sorry -- but I was simply offering the alternative that wouldn't have been given before. Like.. I don't take something as truth until all the questions are answered somehow, so I wasn't implying that it was the case -- I just wanted you to be able to say, "No, that's not it."
(I also don't remember saying that he did have the money, it was a general musing on whether or not he's had enough. Obviously you know him better than I, but I can't deny the surprise of possibility. And as far as life has taught me, those you know least are the ones who are closest to you.)
Hon, don't ever think I'd feel berated if you tell me I'm wrong, and especially if youve asked me to elaborate. If you feel the urge to ask me, then obviously something needs to be explained?
(PS: What do your abilities in people reading have to do with matters of the heart?)
"...these relationships can only be known to the people in it. Everyone else might believe something about the relationship, and their belief might even be superficially true. But who is justified to make these assumptions?"
Nothing truer has ever been written.
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