Schism

"Pure intention juxtaposed
Will set two lovers' souls in motion
Disintegrating as it goes
Testing our communication
The light that fueled our fire then
Has a burned a hole between us so
We cannot see to reach an end
Crippling our communication

I know the pieces fit
Cause I watched them tumble down
No fault, none to blame
It doesn't mean I don't desire to
Point the finger, blame the other
Watch the temple topple over
To bring the pieces back together
Rediscover communication..."

He's a good friend of mine. So was she.
They'd been together before. A four-month relationship that seemed to be lasting forever. And then she ended it, and the hold that he'd kept so tightly on her ripped him apart. That time, I was her friend, seeing everything from her point of view. She was my best friend, and when I say best I mean best. But he was my friend too; not as close, and for not as long, but his friend nonetheless. I was stuck in the middle.
And then I did something silly. For ten fateful minutes I let myself become a volatile broadcaster instead of just a safe sounding board. For ten minutes I took pity on him, and I told him just one little thing that she had told me. And he reacted, and she noticed, and I told her what I did... and things between me and her were never the same again.
Oh, she forgave me. We were still best friends. But that's when we started growing apart.
My friendship with him began to grow until it eclipsed what I had shared with her. Looking back now, it was almost as if I made a choice. With those ten weak, soft minutes I chose him over her.
I don't blame myself, because the position I was in was of such intense pressure that the expression stuck between a rock and a hard place doesn't even come close. It was more like being burned by a fire on one side- the fire of his intense pain -and choked by a rope on the other- a rope that pulled and pulled as she tried to escape the ruins of their relationship. So I gave in. I fed the fire with a piece of the rope. I'm beginning to realise now that perhaps I cut the rope to do that.
I don't regret it either. Since I cut that rope she has become less and less the kind of person that I want to spend time around; running further and further into the distance until all the things that she once was to me have almost disappeared over the horizon.

And then he and I got together. A two-month summer romance that seemed to be lasting forever. And then he ended it, and and the hold that I'd kept so tightly on him ripped me apart. Because it was her. He still wasn't over her.
We both had other relationships, and after the compulsory period of awkwardness, he and I were closer than ever. I got over him... but he never got over her.

And they got back together. Months passed, and it seemed it would last forever.
But if it didn't work once, it was never going to work twice.
And now that they've broken up again, I find myself on his side more than hers. It's surreal for me, having been through this twice with them and now being on the other side of the fence. This time I blame her so much more than I could have ever blamed him all those years ago: it's the way that she just doesn't seem to care, this time. At least the first time she fretted and worried for the proper time period.
I may be wrong about how she's feeling. After all, we haven't had a deepmeaningful, like we used to, for years. But there are some things I've always known and noticed about her... she is immensely practical, ruthlessly down-to-earth, and can be brutally, brutally blunt.

After all he and I have been through, I can't help but take his side in this. But it is surreal... to be part of both lives, to be the fork in the road, the schism of their love story.