Richard L. Haight

When I was young, I had an older friend named Tim. He was the only person that I hung out with at the time due to my personal issues. Tim was disliked by most kids, largely because he flaunted his intelligence, bragging of a 165 IQ. Intelligence used rightly is a wonderful attribute, but he made a point of intellectually dominating, something few could tolerate. At that time I was insecure about my own intelligence due to a learning disorder. Tim’s intellectual dominance didn’t bother me because I was willing to accept some degree of minor abuse.

When Tim and I hung out we’d play games (video games, bowling, table-tennis, billiards, etc.), while he told various stories of his accomplishments, and he taught me about government, economy, politics, current events, and history. I absorbed these things like an unconscious sponge, not realizing that I was learning anything. Tim treated me well, and we became good friends.

I remember one day, we were playing video games when Tim brought up the subject of death. At the end of a game, Tim turned to me deliberately and stated that if he ever had to choose between his life and mine, he would choose his life without hesitation. To accentuate his point, he stated that he would pull the trigger himself if that meant saving his life, which he justified by saying, “Hey, I like you and all, but I’m number one.” He said it with such determination, that I had no doubt that he meant it. He claimed that this was natural self-love, but I didn’t believe it. It felt more like a combination of self-absorption and fear of death.

That was my moment of choice, and Tim was quite intentionally showing his cards. At least he wasn’t lying to me. There was a hollow place in my gut, and I knew in that moment that someday I was going to pay for this friendship. I felt like a bug waiting to be squashed.

I made a choice in that moment to sacrifice my long-term interest in order to maintain the immediate friendship. I didn’t want to be alone anymore, so I chose to have this friend rather than no friend.

I understood the permutations of my choice in an instant and without much thought, although I reflected back on that moment repeatedly over the years of our relationship. If, at that time, you had asked me about that decision, and assuming I was honest in my answer, I would have said that someday I might pay a big price for that choice, but it was better than being alone. I hoped that Tim would change or that I would get lucky and avoid someday being used up and tossed away like an empty soda can - or worse.

Many years later, Tim asked for money to start up a new company, which I agreed to give him in exchange for stock. He got the remaining money he needed from his family. Within months of starting his company, he closed it due to new laws prohibiting his venture. He kept the money that he had remaining, but he promised to pay it back.

About ten years later, I had still not received a penny. I needed some cash, so I emailed Tim. I knew he had a good job and was saving money because he had told me as much. I couldn’t understand why he neglected his debt. I pressed him about it, so he sent me a check for less than half of what he originally owed me, saying that was all he owed. I replied to remind him of the original amount. I never heard from Tim again. I thought he might have died.

About a year later I found that he was writing a blog, so I knew he was alive and well. He had chosen his life over mine. In my mind I could hear him saying, “If it’s a choice between me or you, I will shoot you myself.” He had metaphorically “pulled the trigger” to avoid paying me.

It hurt badly because he was an old friend with whom I shared many precious memories. I was angry, feeling betrayed and cheated. It was then that I recalled I had been given fair warning so many years earlier, when Tim said he would chose his life over mine every time. In my heart of hearts, even as a kid, I suspected our relationship would end badly from the outset. I was responsible in a lot of ways.

Since then, I have realized that there has always been a warning at some point regarding unhealthy relationships. After each crash, I could identify the moment where I had made the choice. I suspect this is the case with all of us. In my heart, I usually knew, but I went along anyway because I felt that I couldn’t do any better. I told myself that they will change, not realizing that I was the one who need to change. Sometimes I wanted to "be kind,” when actually I was afraid to stand up for myself or disagree by saying, “no”. Later, I felt resentment and the desire to blame.

Clearly, there are benefits to “toxic” relationships. If there weren’t, we would never enter into them, would we? In my case, I had a lot of fun, I learned a lot about the world, and even how to read as a result of hanging around Tim—rewards for which I feel deep gratitude. I needed this friendship to awaken. Realizing this truth, I can feel no regret.

To be clear, I am not absolving abusers. That’s a battle necessarily fought in their mirror, not mine. Of course, there are few of us who haven’t taken advantage of someone at some point in our lives, right?

About the author:
Richard L. Haight instructs martial, meditation, and healing arts. Guided by a series of profound visions, Haight discovered the realization of the Oneness, which so many seek. Through his new book, The Unbound Soul, his meditation, and martial arts seminars, Richard is helping to ignite a spiritual awakening that is free of all constraints.

Book giveaway! Enter for a chance to win one of 10 signed first-editions of The Unbound Soul (original cover). Sept 29 - Oct 29th, 2016
The Unbound Soul: Applied Spirituality

The Unbound Soul: Applied Spirituality
Join the most epic adventure - awakening!