I was just thinking of an old friend from the eighties. I met him in a house that was exclusively for mentally ill people who needed temporary housing until they could find something permanent. We started off on bad terms. Someone stole some cassette tapes of mine from my bedroom. There were 5 of us living there and I narrowed it down to him as the only person who could have done it. I confronted him in a group meeting but I could not prove it was him beyond a shadow of a doubt.
Anyway, that trouble blew over and than we became friends. We both moved out of this house and found separate housing but we kept up the friendship. At that time, I was heavily into smoking crack and he smoked it to occasionally.
I remember one day after we had been friends for a few months and we had done a lot of stuff together, and we were sitting in one of our favorite spots to party. It was on the banks of a creek beneath a train tracks that were directly up above us on a bridge. We liked to sit there and smoke but one day we were sitting there and I got the distinct feeling that he was going to push me down 15 feet to the dry creek below where I would have gotten hurt really bad. And I told him to back off.
I was thinking, "We are friends, but I didn’t really know everything about him, but he had told me stories of crazy stuff he had done before I met him. Really crazy stuff. So anyway, I got super paranoid and he could tell I was paranoid he looked at me and he said, "Yeah, you really can’t trust anyone, can you? It was no big deal, we were still friends after that and we went on partying and doing fun things for the next year until I moved away.