The thought of someone deliberately fucking me over has seemed so unlikely that for a few blissful years I actually believed that I, unlike every other person in the world, am somehow uniquely immune to such banal bullshit. That I would have a built-in radar that alarms me if a person not worth trusting gets too close. That my crowd, the exclusive group I care about would be the exception to the rule that people, indeed, lie.
Ha ha, what was I thinking. A healthy dose of realism would've been good preemptive damage control.
Now I'm balancing between naïvely hoping for the best and chronically preparing for the worst. Taking my pick between two evils.
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