This story starts like the beginning of a cruddy reality TV show, like a Made in Chelsea-esque special.
It was the last day of the Splendour in the Grass music festival and myself and seven friends had spent the past five days camping in a very hot, humid and dripping tent.
We’d gone to high school together and had known each other for around eight years. However having just come back from another trip, myself and my good friend Rosie* were getting on each other’s nerves.
We’d just gone from sharing a small Airbnb apartment together to sharing a tent with five other people.
It was a year when it was constantly raining and the festival was a mud bath, the tent would leak water and things were just a bit gross, dirty and soggy.
Gradually throughout the festival we butted heads. They were petty things, in hindsight, cringe-inducing things. Things like who could use whose battery packs (a rare commodity at music festivals), which acts we were going to see, the placement of muddy gumboots, and whose turn it was to zip up the tent.

Despite this, the peace was kept. There was an occasional passive aggressive remark here and there, but nothing serious. However on the last night of the festival, something utterly mortifying happened.
We had all split up, and arrived separately back at our tent after the final band had finished performing.
Two of my friends, Elliot* and Paul*, were already there. They'd come back from the festival early and told me that Rosie was really, really drunk. She might have taken drugs, they said.
The problem was that she knew she had to drive us back to Sydney in just three hours time. It was a nine hour drive.
This news, combined with the bubbling tension, annoyance and pure agitation I'd experienced at Rosie's hands the past four days, spurred me to launch into what can only be described as a full on bitch-fest about her behaviour and my problems with it, and her.
Top Comments
I think you have probably lost a friend with your ranting. Are you sorry you said it or sorry you got caught? But either way, I'm sure she intends to just let bygones be bygones but I doubt it will ever be the same again. Maybe she is a bigger person than I am, but trust once it's gone is very hard to earn back.
Not sure I’d have forgiven you had I been her but things do get said in frustration in the heat of the moment and it sounds as though you were just as difficult to co-exist with as you felt she was. I wonder how she would’ve reacted if the situation had been reversed and how you would’ve felt? Probably best to consider how you would fare in that situation and think before you speak.