The Weight of a Mask

There are people who I thought were friends but who I’ve learned cannot be trusted with anything under the social mask I wear.

In the past, people like this ended up being my enemies…

I couldn’t transition away from the friendship fast enough to stop them from seeing the parts of myself that I’d learned they hate.

More recently, I’ve tried experimenting with anticipating the point where a friendship will inevitably break…

Instead of letting the friendship break as spectacularly as they sometimes do, I just transition back to giving the so-called friend only my mask to see.

I think some can tell. But given how neurotypical social spaces work, there’s nothing they ever do about it. We drift apart.

But then I have to carry that warning—Careful! Do not trust this person!—in my heart.

It’s hard carrying a blacklist in your heart.

But perhaps it’s better than carrying a list of enemies on your sleeve?

I thought so for a while. I’m not sure anymore.

My heart is so heavy.

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