To Quote a Deceptively Aging Black Man

There's a saying I've learned to say to me lately:

Your Actual Friends

Give an Actual Fuck

How You Actually Feel

In addition to the childhood communicative deficit I've worked hard to overcome (surprising, huh?), I'm not innately empathetic.  I wasn't wired to give half a shit how other people feel.  For me, it's an artificial construct.  An external background subroutine that--over time--functions near-seamlessly and has developed a bit past the simple mathematics of the query, 'How would I feel if that was ME?'

People who lack the ability to hold to that Most Basic Reciprocity aren't my friends.  

By definition, they simply cannot be.  They rule themselves out.  

Oh, sure they can be acquaintances. perhaps even associates.  But not my friends.  

Why?  Because they're incapable of holding me Near and Dear.  Or even as their equal.  

They're only capable of seeing me as a Lesser Person to Themselves.  Or perhaps Themselves and Others Like Themselves.  Or whomever they otherwise place in their Near and Dear or At Least Equal Circles.

Simple enough.  Right?