He came with guns blazing in the wild, wild west, slung vigilante justice— swift, uncomplicated, final. A piece of evidence, presumption of more, accusation, innuendo, and too few questions. Many things I could have said. Many ways I could have changed. Unheard, hurt, determined guilty in haste. Hilarious, how he used to say, “I’ll just take this plank from my eye, then the lint from yours” Now, my error greater, He jerks the lint, judges in a manner he would not want to be judged— the worst kind of justice. Lacking self-restraint, he wrapped and buried me like a hot dog. With such as me, he does not eat. Correct or contaminate. The choice is yours. And faithful are the wounds of a friend. Choose hate over purpose. Ignore self-evaluation. Your judgment is entirely valid.