I feel like the only "real" relationship I have is with my wife. Friends I think are close distance themselves if I begin a conversation with something personal and nuanced enough to be meaningful and engaging.
We both felt like this for quite awhile. And, we soon reasoned that we were about the perfect people in the perfect situation to answer: Where does a collectivist sense community still exist? The answer appears incredibly simple: Forty to sixty minutes from the closest Walmart.
In twenty five years you'll be thanking her because you know what the fuck the news just said. But, today, I can only imagine the torture.