I want to tell them, "Chip, Kim, there is no way to suicide-proof a person.
Everyone's a liar. Everyone I've ever known.
Like anyone cared where I was, or who I was.
I never defended myself. Not once. I never said, "Excuse me? What gives you the right to insult and demean me?" I let them steal my dignity.
Do what, Kim? Lead a normal life? Too late. Way too late.
Yet, when we talked, when we were together, she seemed so familiar. Seemed to know who I was, where I was coming from. She knew me better than I knew myself, I think. She was easy to be with. And I wanted to be with her, like all the time.