There was a girl in my high school class who was impossibly nice. We lived in the same neighborhood and sometimes walked home together in the afternoon. This girl-let's call her Janice-was more than nice; she was perfect. She never gossiped about anyone or made a single negative comment.
I'd never met anyone like her and I confess it made me uncomfortable. Her goodness held a mirror up in front of me and the reflection wasn't flattering. I knew I ought to want to be more like Janice-but the truth was, I just wanted to get away from her. I wanted to walk home with Sue and gossip.
I wanted to tell Sue about Janice-and to ask, "How can anyone be so perfect? Is it fake? Or, (and this was much more troubling) is she for real?" I never found out. Instead, I distanced myself from Janice and our friendship faded away.
What a surprise then, years later, to have her locate me again. She wanted to get together and when I said no, she was quite unpleasant. In fact, she was downright rude. I was so relieved I almost reconsidered.