Not (drinking) Enough

The capitals in that are on purpose.

How do you tell someone, exactly what you mean, without seeming like you mean it? Because you know that as soon as those words leave your lips, they will forever be indelibly etched into their heart if not their brain and there they will stay, unerasable.

Maybe you say it like the little kid in my preschool class: just flat out--" you don't color as good as me. your picture is ugly." Your not a good friend. If I wanted a counselor I would pay for it. I have insurance.

Maybe with more finesse. But that never seems to work for me.

Yesterday I was told that I am ungrateful. Am I ungrateful? Or do I know what I expect, and give to meet those expectations, give grace when they are not met or returned, and then finally after months or years of waiting, give up and let go. Not loudly like a bursting tire or falling brick like some people. But slowly, and calmly. Like I knew I would. Eventually.

And no. I'm not drinking. Not enough anyway. Because I am still holding myseld to my own expectations. And I would not allow you to drink, so why would allow myself? I am stronger than anyone would think. And they seem never to choose to investigate that, but rather to see my strength as weakness.

I have never understood that.

I don't want pity. I'm too good for that.
I don't want advice. I'm too smart for that.
What I do want, what I do need, is a good friend. Who won't accuse me of suffering but walk in it. How dare you accuse me. And not do anything about it. Not today. But yesterday and the day before and all the days before in the last two months.
Were we friends then?