I passed

I'm not a big believer in, well, anything. Just lump me in with the "ye of little faith" category. Tonight, however, I was tested. I think I passed with flying colors. It may end up that I failed wholeheartedly but tonight I feel that I passed.

Not so long ago I found out that a guy I have a little crush on is an unmedicated schizophrenic. (You can read a little about it here.) I made a few well placed comments to my friend, testing the waters to see if she knew about his illness. I determined that she unequivocally does not know. I decided I will keep it to myself.

He invited us to see his newest band tonight. We went through a bunch of shit just to be able to go out, blah, blah, blah. Before we left, her mother asked exactly who the band is and I explain that one of the singers from the band her nephew is in has formed a new band. She asks if it's the really crazy one, meaning someone else. I bite my tongue and let her correct herself. We finally got to the bar, a bit later than usual. My friend was a little annoyed because she likes to chat before they start the show. We entered in an almost rush. As we were paying the cover charge, we noticed that the bar was empty. I mean five people in the place empty. None of those five people were in the band. Um, OK.

So we asked the owner what the hell was going on, she tells us they cancelled at the last minute. We go to the car, go through a big long process to get in J's number, and wait. All through this time my friend was ranting and raving about him inviting us and then not showing up. I was hoping he wasn't hospitalized. The story that I found online was on the tip of my tongue several times. I was configuring how to start telling it as we walked. Instead, I chose to keep my mouth shut.

We played phone tag and received cryptic texts for the better part of an hour. The story was on the tip of my tongue the whole time she was making snide remarks about him. I swallowed it.

Turns out the drummer cancelled at the last minute. J finally came to the bar to hang out with us. I was glad I hadn't told his story. My friend was drunk enough that I know she would have brought it up in the bar. She retold the story of her mother asking "is that the crazy one?". His eyes darkened and the terror was visible in his face before R laughed it off and blamed the alcoholic for bringing that comment to light. Any shred of doubt I had, any slight hope, suspicion, whatever you want to call it, that the article was faked for a grade was permanently erased from my brain.

Just the look on his face when he realized that she never suspected he was crazy told me that I did the right thing by holding my tongue.

I hope keeping this secret that is not mine to own never becomes the wrong thing.