The distance and detachment created a loneliness. We couldn’t name the source of it, but there was a blankness around which we gathered, one that grew colder and darker, and seeped into everything we did. I think for my mother it was most pronounced. I would lie in bed at night and hear her on the phone with my father, who was away for weeks on business in Europe or Asia or Australia. She was crying, scared, frustrated, lonely. Her anxiety made her brittle, easy to anger. But I didn’t feel sympathetic. I felt fear, neglect. I felt resentment.
Yep. I know these folks. You can be friends with them -- and they'll never be your friend. Too caught up in their own bullshit. 😩
