You hated her so much.
“They’re so far from the Truth,” you’d say. “Guidance? Is that what they call it. Guidance toward what? Interesting how they never specify that.”
“If she’d been bleeding on the street, you would’ve run to get help. It’s the same thing!”
“Typical,” I could hear you saying back. “The whole point is that I wasn’t bleeding in the street. I wasn’t dying of cancer. You couldn’t take an X-ray and see what was wrong with me. You couldn’t make such an easy diagnosis. You had to guess. And everybody guessed wrong.”
But the thing is, I hadn’t even made the guess. I trusted that you knew what you were doing.
You were very convincing.
And I destroyed you.