We might as well face up to it

Something has been bothering me for quite sometime. I don’t get easily worked up about little things: I don’t care if there’s a breadmaker on the counter or if someone forgot to fill the salt and peppers at work. These aren’t all that important.

This is.

I have a friend, who a year ago, I would’ve said was my best friend. Today, I hardly know them. They certainly don’t know me. The few times we are together, I don’t even like them. We used to share our hearts. Today I can’t talk to them without feeling like they’re not listening or getting defensive (about what?). Mostly, I feel that they don’t hear.

Yes, people change. I am an example of that. But you hope that they change for the better. That they become kinder, more compassionate through their experience as a member of the human race.

Instead I now have a “friend”, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to turn to again.


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