I've known this girl for, oh, sixteen years. And our friendship---if you can really call it that---has always had an odd kick to its gallop. I've always known to take her actions, words, etc. with a pinch of salt. But for all that, I confess I had begun to believe she was really growing up. That she was ready---or becoming ready---to face the world with honesty and courage and integrity.

Shoulda known better. People like that *don't* grow up. They don't know how. Instead, they hoard truths to themselves, turning trust against others like blades, deflecting, ever deflecting, so no one really sees them. Or so they think, anyway.

How horrible, I can't help but think, to be so overwhelmed with fear.

And this friend, I've just discovered, is engaged. After almost a year of no communication whatsoever, I've heard this bit of news through the grapevine. Also through the grapevine comes the intelligence that her wedding---whenever it is---shall be almost completely private: family only.

She is, of course, entitled to whatever sort of wedding she wants. But I think I've come to the conclusion that---whatever sort of wedding I have...assuming I have one---she will not be invited. At this point, I'm closer to her mother than I am to her.

After sixteen years of laboring over this ailing horse, how sad to finally proclaim it dead.

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