Metastasis

Metastasis (me-tas’-ta-sis): Denying and turning back on your adversaries arguments used against you.

I started dating Willy’s sister. He got angry and yelled . “Friends don’t date friends sisters!” “What? Aren’t we friends any more? You’ve been dating my sister for the past two years. I guess you’re not my friend, right?” He mumbled something about forgetting that Sharon was my sister. We were still friends.

Willy did this all the time. I called him “Willy Nilly.” He was a hypocrite—world class. No matter what he criticized other people for what they did or liked, he would claim to do or like what he criticized. He just liked criticizing people who were “like” him. He would make them feel bad, and then, get their sympathy by lying to them he was just like them. Sharing their defects bonded them. This was a bizarre way to make friends, especially since he actually shared nothing in common with his “victims” and delighted in perpetuating their the pan he caused them. For example, he would criticize somebody for being addicted to ice cream, say he shared their problem, while he ate all the ice cream he wanted and loved it—no problem. He would fake be upset and make another friend on that basis, illegitimately depriving them of their legitimate love of ice cream.

With sister thing, I got him before he could move to phase two and talk about our shared straddle as we dated each other’s sister and struggled with of friendship. I called him out on his hypocrisy before he had chance to start whining, and in his view, deepen our relationship. I didn’t wine—I beat him to the punch. His problem was a pseudo problem.

Most of the time, however, the whole process was much more simple. He won friends by falsely avowing simple common interests. If somebody said they liked oranges, he would lick his lips and say he loved them too, when in fact, he hated them. Much less complicated than the above. He didn’t try to “negate” their likes.

I loved watching him lie to ingratiate himself to other people. In his lying guided he could be a vegetarian, pacifist, Christian, environmentalist, when he’s a meat-eating, war mongering, atheist, polluter. If the truth was was discovered, the tables could be easily turned and he’d lose his “friend.”

This cycle was completed countless times in his life as he tried to manage his sel- loathing,

Then there was ends-means, faking sympathy for a goal, he would say ”You don’t want to get fat, but fasting can kill you.”

This is complicated, and I may have it all wrong, but I tried it once. Willy’s sister told me she loved pizza, so I told her I loved it too, when in fact I hated it. Actually eating it with her traumatized me. From there on out we were willing to admit our difference and compromise, or win-win. We would eat sushi. But, she started going to the pizzeria with Bill Bongweed and I became certain she liked pizza more than sushi, and that I would lose her to Bill who shared her love of pizza. So, I sucked it up and ate pizza—saying “mmm” with every bite. I am a hypocrite, but Willy’s sister is mine. FU Bongweed!