We had a group of about twelve friends at one point, years ago, having moved into a new area and met them over a few months - one couple introduced other friends and so on. Gradually, over the years, little differences between various people escalated into hostility, and I found, to my dismay, that my kitchen seemed to be a place where at least three of the group would gravitate, alone, a couple of times a week, each going on relentlessly about how awful x, y and z had been to her, what had been said etc. It miserable to listen to, time consuming, and utterly pointless as any effort to put a better spin on what either x,y or z had said was met with further outbursts of related injustice and 'hard done by' tales. I began to realise that some people actually enjoy this kind of thing; they get a buzz out of trouble, and can't be happy unless someone is being crucified by inches. Inevitably it was our turn, and one woman who had sat in my kitchen weeping and wailing for hours and told me I was like a sister to her, suddenly decided she didn't want to speak to me any more, in spite of my never having taken sides, or repeated anything. This was years ago, I still have no idea what I said or did, and we moved away a year or so later. The old friends that we have known for ever were still there, and still are. Take heart - these things are often unexplainable, and spring from the tortured goings on in someone else's head. Trying to get to the bottom of it all - therein lies madness.