I’ve always had a small confusion.

Some friends, whenever we meet one-on-one, start venting about their spouse. This is wrong. That is unbearable. They speak as if they’re describing an enemy that needs to be defeated.

I listen.
Naturally, I step onto that side.
I nod. I agree. I stand up for them.

But a few days later, when I see them together again, the scene looks completely different. Holding hands. Laughing. Easy intimacy. Sometimes even public displays of affection.

That’s when I genuinely freeze. So— do you like each other, or not?

I suddenly realize: the hardest part isn’t judging right or wrong, but not knowing which side I’m supposed to stand on.

If I stay on the side of their complaints, I become the one who’s overstepping. If I switch back to their closeness, then everything I heard before feels conveniently erased.

What’s more exhausting is noticing how common this is. So many people are quiet chameleons.

The same person, at different moments, can say completely opposite things. Not because they forgot but because the interests of the moment have shifted. The inner scale never stops swinging.

And if we truly want to be involved, we have to learn how to read between the lines: Which words are emotion, which are tests, which just need a listener right now.

Honestly?! It’s exhausting!!

So I slowly learned one thing: I stopped rushing to take sides. Not out of indifference. Not out of moral superiority. But because I realized some performances aren’t meant for you.

Once we invest too deeply, we get pulled into their constantly switching roles.

Sometimes, the safest position isn’t neutrality, but taking a step back, and watching the whole play.



—— XC Scribbles · 柒拾參 LXXIII 🎭