Another one of those getting-along-with-Cynthia rules—one that my family of origin would do well to note.
Don’t play crazy-making memory games with me. I had my memories questioned and denied so often in my early life that I:
1) Developed a damned good memory. I remember something very close to a recording-perfect version of any conversation. Yes, this has been proven repeatedly in various situations.
2) Keep records of written communications like email and chat.
3) Frequently mention those spoken conversations with precise quotes in my (handwritten) journal or other written media, because if I’m going to bring something up I want to be as accurate as possible.
If I tell you that I said ‚“I haven’t made any changes to that site in over a year” then that’s exactly what I said. Whether or not you heard “that site’s been gone for over a year” is no reflection on my veracity.
If I tell you that yes, I did let you know that X might come over on Sunday, then, believe me, I did tell you that. While you were conscious, even. If you didn’t listen to me, or just don’t remember it, that’s not my fault.
If we’re discussing a written exchange, it’s especially stupid to try to twist things around or change history. If you changed it in your memory, I’ll provide documentation to refresh your memory if necessary—and if it’s necessary, it is unlikely that I will ever trust you again, because I consider you dishonest. Don’t try to claim that your memory is better than my records because it isn’t.
Number 1 also means that if you at any time said, “I hate you,” then for me it’s still echoing. Don’t use that kind of language if you’re over three years old and have any interest in an ongoing relationship with me. In fact, don’t say anything you wouldn’t want to have echoing through the rest of our association.