Why This is Hard

I’m not going to hell. I’m going through it.

Friend: Do you really think that you are the only one? And I ask that both honestly AND rhetorically, and not to hurt you or diminish the feelings you had for her.

Me: The thought frightens my inner child so badly that I almost threw up on my keyboard.

Friend: She’s lived on the earth a long time. And not always within your sight line.

Me: I know. And I acknowledge. But I haven’t been able to look at that blast radius yet. My ego is too tied up right now. It turns my childhood from an accidental love story to To Catch a Predator

Friend: I think it was a combination, to be honest. And I mean that sincerely. Based on what you’ve said, and what I’ve read in your posts.

Me: I really, really hope so. To think there are others really taps into my worthlessness loop. I wasn’t special. I was just a hole.

Friend: Even if she “couldn’t help it”, it was still wrong.

Me: I am only saying that “I couldn’t help it” feels better than “I fucked half of teenage Amarillo before I got to you.”

Friend: Ya, I get it. For what it’s worth, she didn’t.

Me: ROFLMAO. It’s worth a lot. Thank you.


2 thoughts on “Why This is Hard

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