Callous

I learned the art of sarcasm from my best friend in junior high. Her name was Laura, and she had long dark hair with a sweep of bangs and she wore topsiders nearly every day. We would make prank phone calls during our sleepovers at her house and we made a killing from scamming CD companies out of those 10 CDs for a penny deals. Her father used to beat her with a belt and she would call my house in hysterics asking me to have my mom come over and get her. Her mom was as aloof as the wallpaper in the hallway of their family home, and her brothers showed love by letting Laura and me smoke their cigarettes.

Laura and I drifted apart our freshman year of high school. She wanted to drink and have casual sex with college boys. I could barely stomach half of a Zema and couldn't figure my way out of a blow job. It was strange watching our friendship end. I knew she was completely awful for me, and that she was holding me back socially, emotionally, and academically. My parents practically threw a party when I came home one day after school and announced that our friendship was no longer. And even more strange was I didn't miss her. I didn't skip a beat, I just moved on to different friends and new activities and ended up having an awesome time in high school.

What is it about getting older that makes moving on so much more difficult? What makes the Laura's of adulthood so much harder to shake? In high school, I knew Laura was completely toxic to me. I think I even had an idea that our friendship would not stand the test of time. I don't know that I go into relationships any less aware now, so I'm not sure what has changed. Part of me wonders if it is because I want to believe that people aren't as fickle or flippant in relationships as they get older. Or maybe I just think that if I show enough love, support, and care, I'll be able to eclipse any hurt that might be imposed.

My worry is that I'm starting not to trust people. I'm starting to get paranoid that I'm being lied to; that everyone really is out for themselves. I don't want to buy into that. I don't want to be skeptical all the time. I don't want to carry past hurts around like some sort of preemptive badge. Mostly, I don't want to miss out on an opportunity to meet someone amazing because I can't stop looking over my shoulder at proverbial reminders.

But you can't will yourself happy
You can't will your cunt wet
You can't keep standing at the station
Pretending you're being met
You can't wear a sign that says 'yours'
When that ain't what you get

It flows and flows away from me
My love is a stream
Your love is a vaudeville show
So charming and obscene
We both had our moments
We both had our fun
And then I hated to prove 'em all right
All those who said I'd run