Twenty years ago I was assaulted. Mugged in plain daylight on a circulated side-walk. I was sober. Nobody gave a damn. But I never bothered putting labels of mistrust on men, gypsies, convicts or hobos. It was my choice to take that road, not fight back and enjoy the extra topping of bruises besides my lunch money being taken from me. Depending on the mood, now I would probably handle it the same way.
The same goes for drinking, pain and friends. If I were to go back in time I would still choose the wrong ones simply because I love what I’ve become, the things I’ve learned. And I wouldn’t do it any other way.
So as wrong as it may seem, thank that creep. You don’t know the people around you until you test them or the opportunity arises. The same goes for our inner demons: if the wrong people is what it takes to make them surface, enjoy the ride. And learn. And live to tell the tale.