There are a number of reasons why I don't believe that statement. Or, I don't believe it to be as true as it was intended to sound. I'm sure there's truth there, though.

In the past, when I'd notice that people had made an effort to hurt me, I'd go for their throat. Figuratively. Rarely do they succeed, and even more scarce is it that I fail to hurt them deeply. I have the ability to hone in on that one thing that tears them to pieces and throw it in their face so coldly that it hurts only so much before they go numb. It's not a skill. Not a talent. Sure as hell isn't a gift.

After having read something with what I'd call a seemingly deliberate disregard for emotions, I have realized just how much I have changed. I should be going for the throat. I should be wounded so deeply that all I can do is whimper on the floor in the dark.

Instead, I am simply worried. Not hurt or pissed. Just concerned. It seems to me that there is a deep hurt that has spawned this. Perhaps I'm disillusioned, I won't rule that out.

Either way, I am the outlet for a friend's utter disregard. Life is good, and there's nothing that can be thrown my way that will ever stop me cold. Phase me, yes, but never stop me. I'll not go for her throat. I'll not offer mine-for it can only provoke more.

I pride myself as trying to be the friend that will never fail when really needed. Right now, I'm needed to simply absorb. To take all her hurt from her, and give none in response.

Life is good for me. It always is. And I know I can bare being an outlet with ease. Now, all that is needed is my silence. And that, I can assuredly give.

I pray that she is happy. And if not, I pray that she will be soon. I hope that she will see just how kind this action is, and that it has no precedent till now in my history. I pray that we may be good friends again.

My life is good. In all honesty, I would not rather to be anyone but me. And no matter what happens, that won't change.

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And that's that.
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To write them.
Heart vs mind.