Lemniscate.

Two girls, one tall and Strong, the other Struggling to be, walked in. Natural tension sat at their shoulders. They sat down, talking about insignificant things. It was half-hearted, the way mothers and fathers make small talk before springing upon their children about their divorce, about moving countries, about sex.

Stro: Can I ask you something? I want you to be honest with me.

Stru: Sure. [Indifferent, but wanting to be compassionate.]

Stro: Why did you lie to me?

Stru: (inquisitive look) Because it was none of your business.

Conversations had in a condescending tone required two types of people: the one who was condescending, who felt morally superior. The other one either couldn't tell that they were looked down on or kept their mouths shut about it because they did something wrong.

Sparkling tension.

Stro: It was my business.

Stru: You just want to make it your business.

Stro: I had a right to know.

Stru: And we told you.

Stro: Eventually.

Stru: Better than never.

Stro: Would've preferred never.

Stru: Had we known that, we wouldn't have told you anything.

Stro: I thought we were friends.

Stru: We were.

Fizzling.

Stro: I've found that straight women are misguided.

Stru: My sexuality has nothing to do with who I am. Neither does my age.

Stro: That's where you're wrong.

Stru: Being jaded, dulling your senses with marijuana, doesn't make you any more mature than I am.

Stro: I often forget how young you are.

Stru: How interesting.

Stro: He was mine.

Stru: I don't believe people should be seen as objects to possess, unless they're in committed relationships, then they have the right to reserve a person for themselves. That's what I've learned from you the past couple of months. Are you going back on what you've been preaching to me?

Stro: You should've known.

Stru: No, I shouldn't have. I wouldn't have. You purposely exude this air of sexual freedom, but you don't actually believe that, do you? And now it's too late.

Stro: Don't think you're innocent in all of this. You're not.

Pause. 

Honesty is a double-edged sword. When you ask for it, and actually receive it, you can't always accept it. Not deep down. Because deep down inside of you, something is hurting, knowing that truth is either an indication of friendship or the end of one. How do you tell one from the other?

StrO: I'm not saying I am. I'm taking responsibility for my actions. Shun me, cut me off, that's fine. I'll live with it.

StrU: You don't know how happy I've been since this happened. I realized just how stifled my life has become. Now I do things outside of my boundaries and yes, I was angry before, but now I'm just so happy.

StrO: So am I.

StrU: You know there's an angry woman in there, inside of you. It's that darkness I told you about before. I noticed it in you. I don't want you to let her become bitter and angry.

StrO: She was doing fine until you came along.

StrU: I don't think it's impossible for us to be friends again.

StrO: Is that so? Because I think it is impossible. Pause. I've no interest in being friends again.

StrU: Let's get this straight. You wronged me, and you're telling me you won't want to be friends again?

StrO: I don't believe I've wronged anybody, but yes. Is there a problem?

Pause.

StrU: No.

StrO: Then we're done here.

It's the end. Tattoo a lemniscate onto your wrist with the word 'Honesty' etched into it with white ink. It's all you can ever live by.