If I could be free of you without having to lose you, what would we be?
Dad said each finger counts as a friend. It may take his entire life for me to prove otherwise but he’s determined to die on his own terms. And for now, Dad’s right. I’ve got two hands and one’s open, just hanging out, tapping. I’m trying to tell someone I don’t feel fine. My friends don’t need to be fun. It’s uncomfortable when they force it. Gets me thinking about myself, like how I should have enough happiness to smile on my own. What I want is for them to say things, secrets, teach me, talk. And this is why it’s difficult. It’s impossible to feel accomplished if I’m not becoming smarter everyday. I’d have to lie to myself. And that’s when I’d rather be my worst enemy than a best friend.
