Exposed

"These people are not real" are words spoken to self-protect. I am real. Not merely words passing via a mysterious computer language. I am real. Reality lives beyond the electronic screen with words and sounds.

Fear of loss stems from one-sided requirements of a friendship. My hurts and angers cause forsakeness. Trying to keep them to myself, I cannot. They explode in my head, and then appear on the screen. Too late to backspace. They lay naked, exposed. Expect rejection.

Exclusion, non-communication, used as a bit to try to rein. The pony winces and neighs but it cries where none can hear. Rejection worked the first time. This time anger results. Hurt responds. One sided friendships are not friendships, are they?

Tears dried by ocean breezes while walking past school children playing. Tears hidden behind sunglasses, screens. They are real tears. I have real feelings. I am real. Stomach churns. Loyalty can be a weapon used against me. Grief stricken.

My friend, my friend, what does thou require of me? Whatever it is, it is law and unreachable.

"What is wrong, sis?" A friend listens to my anger, in spite of struggles. "Your sins are forgiven in Jesus."

Tears flow.