A mistaken interpretation example from my world:
very early on in the AIDS crisis a dear friend passed away right about the time I received my first HIV test results (-). I was reeling from the implications of that while trying to comfort his long time partner after the funeral service and was really conflicted knowing my status and not telling him. False pretenses or something, failure to disclose kinda thing.
But I didn't want to tell him. I knew he was going to have a melt down, start screaming "I wish you were dead instead of D" and maybe even start pounding on me.
And I kinda wanted him to . .
Anyhow, I summoned up all my courage, figuring I had to be honest and despite it being horrible D had just died, if I couldn't be true to his surviving partner, well, I just had to tell him.
He didn't react negatively at all, gave me a big hug, started crying (more) and told me he really needed some good news right then.
While I was relieved, I was totally mystified too. He's my best friend, I know he didn't deserve to lose his partner, and wishing me dead in his place not only seemed appropriate, it was something I had earned.
So, it's been 30 years, and until recently, I accepted his reaction but thought he was screwed up somehow, it never occurring to me till a few weeks ago I was the one with the fucked up outlook.
And just typing I was wrong about it isn't really changing my underlying feeling about it, it's one of those head and heart not going in the same direction thing.
very early on in the AIDS crisis a dear friend passed away right about the time I received my first HIV test results (-). I was reeling from the implications of that while trying to comfort his long time partner after the funeral service and was really conflicted knowing my status and not telling him. False pretenses or something, failure to disclose kinda thing.
But I didn't want to tell him. I knew he was going to have a melt down, start screaming "I wish you were dead instead of D" and maybe even start pounding on me.
And I kinda wanted him to . .
Anyhow, I summoned up all my courage, figuring I had to be honest and despite it being horrible D had just died, if I couldn't be true to his surviving partner, well, I just had to tell him.
He didn't react negatively at all, gave me a big hug, started crying (more) and told me he really needed some good news right then.
While I was relieved, I was totally mystified too. He's my best friend, I know he didn't deserve to lose his partner, and wishing me dead in his place not only seemed appropriate, it was something I had earned.
So, it's been 30 years, and until recently, I accepted his reaction but thought he was screwed up somehow, it never occurring to me till a few weeks ago I was the one with the fucked up outlook.
And just typing I was wrong about it isn't really changing my underlying feeling about it, it's one of those head and heart not going in the same direction thing.
The granting of a pardon is an imputation of guilt, and the acceptance a confession of it.
