texts: Scared.  No, not scared.  Wary. Like I was something to be... her guard went up.  I was a threat.  Now I know why.  She was afraid she'd be seen.  That I would see her for the self-obsessed neurotic that she was. I think she thought she had a few more years of being on a pedestal. But that's the cycle, right?  I knew a little more than she did, she knew a little more than her mother, and on and on.  I guess that's part of the reason why --
labels: I know.  I know.  We don't have to talk about that.