I just don't like the way you talk to me sometimes David. I don't know if I misunderstood you, but I'm sensitive and you just don't realise it.

That's how it was, word for word. There's more, but it'd make you reach for the bucket. It's what C. said after I told him to shut up when he started complaining about a picture I've got of him. Imagine whiney voice: Oh why did you take that it's horrible… etc ad tedium. Give it a rest will you?

I find you so hard to live with sometimes. Are we married? Are we supposed to like everything about each other? Or are we supposed to try and find out about each other's failings and learn to adapt ourselves around them? Is it wise to bring them out into the open, creating more friction between us and fraying the already thin rope of friendship still further? Is it sensible to assume that if he uses this kind of, you're a git, be nice to me or I'll cry attitude to force an apology from me, I'll then think, oh yes, you are right and there's nothing about you I wouldn't change?

In fact there's precious little I would change about C. except his constant complaining, seriousness and eagerness to point out my failings. In a very 'outsider's viewpoint' kind of sense, it's good to see when I've been insensitive but, like today, I often realise as I say it what I'm doing. Believe it or not, I have a conscience and it bugs me. I don't need you pouring vinegar into our wounded friendship.

This is now addressed to C. I'm sure he's dying to know what I really think of him, what I like and what I don't like so here goes.

Dear C.

[…] ¹

We are so different... Not everything said in anger is rage. It's like Indians who don't know sarcasm. Lighten up! Nothing is as bad as you make out. Yes we do virtually nothing and get tired. Yes the sexton cocked up. Yes I told you to shut up but don't cry about it. Laugh! What's wrong with being happy? ...I've learned myself that you will never survive like that. You have to look on the bright side, rise above the thorns and smell the roses. Can't you joke about the food, mosquitoes, people? I'm not a Samaritan and you'll get no sympathy from me... You suck... Get a life. Get a six-pack. Don't think that by complimenting me (he does you know - 'ooh your so trim and you're a healthy colour - I'm just horrible') you'll get any back. I won't indulge you. I don't like your compliments... I don't like your nonchalant whistling when you're cross and I don't like the fact that you take an instant liking to things that I don't like.

You think that by telling me what annoys you about me, I'll be glad they’re out in the open and change. Even do the same to you. I won't / don’t want to and if I did, one of us would be moving to Delhi. We are not married. Our relationship is not the same. We don’t have to share our problems wabout each other with each other. Some things are best left unsaid. Why are you so desperate to be English in the middle of India?

I don't want us to hate each other in April.

I'm not going to try and justify myself against all this. It's what I feel, and some of it may be a result of my own conditioning. I doubt that C. would find any of it at all thought-provoking – he’d possibly dismiss it as the ravings of an egotistical stubborn maniac. I can't go into it anymore, we'd be into the realms of arrogance and I'm not that.

I was 'short' with him today, exasperated with his lethargy and then his explosion of complaints. I'm sorry, but he could easily have laughed it off instead of going all sensitive. At the moment I'm afraid there's not much about him that I like and I'm sure he’s written the same about me.

It's a sorry state of affairs, but yet again I've got to swallow my anger and pretend that everything's alright. I'm sure it will be later, but it'll come back. I'll think on change for a while, and see if I can avoid spilling red wine on his favourite cat.²