Flaws. So many flaws. I’d even trade my flaws for other flaws, as long as the flaws that make other people keep their distance from me were the ones being traded. I seem to be something not worth being near for prolonged periods of time. Radioactive. Poisonous. Wearing. All the things I thought would be valuable to friendships and relationships appear to be worthless, and somewhere along the way I must have missed the point.