We were even. No one got too close. It was more comfortable that way, the space made room. Or maybe it was the room that made space. Two by two. Reverse order than when we were younger. Now I'm the caretaker.
"I have to live with them."
They were frantic. So I got up and moved, hiding my eyes to preemptively end a conversation before it could get started.
"Aren't you happy you're not next to them."
Did she expect a reply? We're all next to each other, but it's always opaque until we reach an intersection.
I don't appreciate open resentment. That's not the way it should be. There's many times when I've questioned the meaning. There's many, many times I've made mistakes. But to be purposefully proud of hostility is horrifying -- especially in public, especially when it's directed.
When did it become okay to be casually calloused?
That's not the way it should be. That's not the way it should be.