Burn baby, burn

When I saw him, the first thing I wanted to do was to tear the tee-shirt off him and burn it.

It was an extreme reaction but our so-called friendship has always been filled with extremities. Where we were once so close, we now seem like total strangers. We could be standing side by side and yet not acknowledge each other, even though the group around us are common friends. Those who are unaware that we know each other may think that the two of us have never met before.

I may possibly not even know him at all, and perhaps neither does he understand me.

But friendship is something I value. Let me down just even once and I begin keeping the score. As humans are fallible, there are always second and third chances. But after the fourth time, you cease to be my friend and become just a mere acquintance.

I wish I could burn that tee-shirt.

So if he wanted the tee-shirt now, he'll have to take a 13-hour flight to Christchurch, followed by a few hours drive to Queenstown to locate the tiny shop, before buying the tee-shirt off the rack.

Such people were not really worth the effort after all.