It occurs to me that I'm probably not very easy to be friends with. I'm too insistent on . . . what? . . . Depth? (probably a prideful artifice of its own.) Integrity? (my own, mostly; I abhor the idea that I'm embezzling someone's good will and trust under false pretenses.) Unmaskedness? (friends are real with each other, but that can be exhausting, too; friends also need to be a refuge for each other from all that sometimes.)
I have many, many acquaintances. I have very, very few friends. I'd probably have more if I hadn't been so confused when I was younger, when I kept falling in love with them. (Yeah, since high school my closest friends have been women.)
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