that

I guess I hadn't been communicating very well once I started talking about stuff in my past.

I had to explain the difference last night between hanging out with drug dealers and being friends with a drug lord taking me to a meeting in another drug lord's house (high security gang house) where if they hadn't agreed on a territory boundary, my guy would have been killed on the spot, and I'd either have been released to carry news of his death or been kept as property to do with as they pleased.

We both walked out alive, in part because I was so completely shut down emotionly that absolutely nothing rattled me and that was intimidating in it's own right, despite me being completely relaxed the entire time.

THAT is what I had become, between my dad and my friend's murder. THAT.