She might as well give up. It worked for finding a husband. Maybe it would work for a friend. This door looked unlikely – more tomb than treasure. But then again, all the likely doors had been dead ends.

Maybe there was something to giving up, after all. Maybe she needed to stop trying to have a friend, or a group of friends. The ones who wanted to hang out with her just wanted her for her ear, or shoulder, or heart. They wanted to lean things on her, weigh her down. But the scales weren’t even. Was it her fault? She never unburdened herself on them. If they were treating her like they wanted to be treated, then maybe she should. But that had often led to ridicule, dismissal, or worse – betrayal. A secret kept was a secret that was safe. It would never sneak around the corner to surprise at inappropriate moments. In the past she’d had to suddenly switch gears, act indifferent instead of shocked that her secret was out. That took away some of the power. The teller would see there was no weight to it – no value in the retelling. It wasn’t a secret that could be used as blackmail. But then she knew she could never talk to that person again, about anything. A person who thought secrets were for leverage wasn’t a person worth keeping around.

And how about the friends who ghosted her on social media? No use trying to private message or request friendship again. Any person who would leave without explaining wasn’t worth the time.

When the student is ready, the teacher will appear. What is the same true with friends?

(Written late May, 2019)