Bad times. Yep.

Bad times. If you say it like Stitch it takes away a little of the hurt, but you're still just as pissed. Yep.

Have you ever been accused of something you didn't do? Not just any something either, but something so insanely out there, you wouldn't even think it up to do it, much less actually go completely against your nature and character, total batnuts- and attempt it. One of those moments that hits you and it's like you're on a 747 and it just lost cabin pressure?

Yeah.

Now, it doesn't end at the accusation level, nope. After that, you find you've been convicted as well. Apparently you DID do it, even if you had no idea what the "did" was that you'd done did. (That last pat may be difficult for people who've never been married to get, maybe not. I digress...)

Now to make matters even worse, not only have you been accused and convicted, costing you reputation, piece of mind, and maybe a bit of your dignity, but your accuser is one of your closest friends. Maybe someone much more to you than just a friend. So now you've lost their love and support on top of everything else, all in one big swirly-do. And in the end, you still have no idea what the hell is going on. You're just left kind of numb and maybe angry, because you know that for some reason or another someone has besmirched your name and your friendships and you've been left holding the ball. There are obvious suspicions, but you aren't about to subject anyone to the same accusatory nonsense you're going through. You want to get to the bottom of things, but it seems that somewhere along the chain of reasoning, all evidence of anything becomes unverifiable from your end, so you're just stuck with it. What do you do now?

You sit and stew and worry and fret. How could anyone believe you'd do something like this? What has happened that you don't know about? Is someone out there actually so hateful of you that they'd set you up like this? Who would stand to gain anything from hurting me like this? You just simmer, asking yourself these types of questions over and over, raw and hurt, wanting answers that ain't coming to you.

Not namin' any names. Not sharin' any faces, but dealing with this really sucks. Curiosity compels me to ask. This ever happen to any of you fine furry folkes, and how'd you deal?

Bad times.