October 7, 2020:

I wanted a friend.
I wanted to be friends.
I thought we were friends.

She was hurting, so was I,
but despite the similarities in our circumstances there was no communication,
in part because she was angry,
in part because I was unwell and addicted and uncommunicative.

It hurt me.
It added to the hurt.
It was more of the same, the annus horribilis, where hurt was what there was.