My friend asked the question out of the blue. I was spending the night with my friend, Larry, and I was lying on a twin bed in the corner of his room.
“What do you think about your mom being gone?” he asked.
It didn’t strike me as a difficult or important question, but something about the experience has burned everything about it into my memory. I was about 10 or 11 years old. Although my mother had been away from us off and on for years, the divorce had been final only for a year or two. She had no custody or official visitation.
I considered Larry’s question for a long moment. I felt very cold. Very hard. There was no emotion in my voice.
“I couldn’t care less if she moved to the Sahara Desert,” I said.
That’s all I said and Larry didn’t ask any more. It’s a good thing, because I might have cried if he had pushed to know what I meant. I was confused. I couldn’t tell if I felt nothing or if I felt more than I could handle. I swept the feelings under a rug in my heart — and I left them there.

Narcissistic abuse often leaves victims feeling alone in the world
We hate ourselves for needing other people’s approval so much
FRIDAY FUNNIES
Despite intentions, ‘net neutrality’ gives online control to politicians
Does this look like a child abuser? Voters must not have thought so
Being disconnected from love as close to hell as we’ll find on Earth
Why do we paint ourselves into joyless corners with no way out?
Love & Hope — Episode 4:
California teacher union gets power to veto online college classes