I Believe... [“Fragile” is an Invitation for Abuse]
...that the height of delusional expectation is demonstrated most clearly when you write “Fragile” on a box being moved 2,000 miles cross-country. It’s like the box is a fat kid with a perpetually snotty nose in tight yellow Adidas shorts and a stutter — the bullies get in line to toss him under a couch.
The stomach tightens and sinks.
The heart and lungs follow.
It’s a confounding reaction to a receipt of affection.
It’s familiar, and, therefore, oddly comforting.
But familiarity can be a curse.
A cursed reminder of what once went wrong when you were just trying to do things right this time.
This time it’ll be different, you say.
Why? You’re different, but what are you doing differently?