With friends like you, who needs friends?
I have my tunes on shuffle and this song comes on. It catches me off guard. I catch my breath. I am instantly transported. I am a scrawny mosquito-bite-chested girl. I am laying in my bed, eyes puffy, and surrounded by crumpled Kleenex. I am hurt like I never knew the hurt could hurt. I am listening to this same song.
I experienced my first
stab of betrayal, I mean real, genuine, stomach-emptying,
vitriol-producing, bad poetry-inspiring, tear-jerking,
tissue-box-emptying betrayal, when I was 14. This song was my
recovery song, on repeat like a band-aid mantra until I nursed myself
back to functionality. The heinous feelings bubble up from the
past and reach the surface and, as I'm in a maudlin state today, they
take the shape of a tear that rises and spills from its duct like a
tilted forty to the homies who long ago bruised my heart. Thanks
for the memories.
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