I couldn’t figure out what she had. In my desperate pursuit of truth, I went over my theories again and again.
*Did she mean to spare me from disappointment when she professed that my friends were using me? In that case, why not give me a gentle warning instead of throwing in my face what she insisted was a stark reality? Why does one of those friends still see me twenty years down the road?
*She described atrocious crimes to me in excruciating detail. Was it in my best interest to perfectly envision the lot of a brutally murdered teenager? Why go so far as to use childish vocabulary to ensure I understood, so that years later, as a consequence, the image of the victim’s maimed “hoo-hah” remains etched in my brain?
*Why did she act so empathetic with everyone else and so ruthless with me?
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