Recovery And The Aftermath

Last night was painful.
I needed my friends, and the ones I reached out to slapped me in the face for thinking they would be there. Friendship is a two-way street, and this is where the line between friends and associates comes in. You're going to need something from me, but from now on, we're not friends, so it's going to have to be a favor trade. You brought it on yourself. Don't call me when you're hurting and I'm the only one who would understand, because I might just be too busy for you, too.

Or you might find out that I'm a grown woman with a good heart and I'd be there for you anyway.
That's who I am, and I refuse to let your selfish attitude change the good in me to bitter.

After all of that, there was a guy in the club who wouldn't take no for an answer. I am grateful to Cano, a signal soldier who looks more like a lightning rod (6 ft 6 or so and maybe 120 lbs soaking wet, no lie) for stepping in when I couldn't handle it on my own. I don't know Cano that well, but we have talked once or twice, and I'm grateful that he was there. Not everyone would have stepped in, but it says a lot about who you are when you do.

I will be alright, no one's going to hurt me.
The walls are up, right now, though, and may be for a while. I don't know what this will mean for people around me, but I suppose I'm going to find out.