Friendship

It was hate for the most part.

Hate, amusement, resentment, or ignorance.

No affection. No admiration. No love.

That’s why there was violence.

Friends looked more like enemies.

It was competition. At least for most of us.

Who was the toughest. Who was the smartest. Who would be most successful. Who was the best.

We lived in a world where it mattered. Because we grew up knowing that success wasn’t about being good, it was about being the better than others.

Life was zero-sum. Friendship was a game. A game no one ever won.

I was not an individual. I was a collection of opinions and identities chosen with the intent of being seen well in the eyes of others.

They were not individuals. They were landmarks. Objects of my indifference or my aggression. The result of a lack of introspection. And their progress was a threat.

A group devoid of love, with no idea how to find it. A collective bent on self-destruction, a lack of self-esteem to bind it.

Broken homes, broken kids, broken people.

Power games and regrets mixed with tequila and cigarettes.