American Shithole #7 — Besties
Today however, I feel compelled to shut the front door on all the chaos of our political hell-scape, and instead write a short article about friends. Best friends, really. Not the particulars about my best friend — we shall call him, Peter — but the bonus points in life you generally receive if you’ve been lucky enough to have developed a close friendship along your way.
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?