October 7, 2020:
I wanted a friend. I wanted to be friends. I thought we were friends.
She was hurting, so was I, but despite the similarities in our circumstances there was no communication, in part because she was angry, in part because I was unwell and addicted and uncommunicative.
It hurt me. It added to the hurt. It was more of the same, the annus horribilis, where hurt was what there was.