I’m just a puppy.

I have this weird sort of understanding about myself through the behaviors of others around me: that people see me as a fragile thing, so naive and sheltered and neutered and completely lacking in street smarts and common sense; yet someone who is also resilient, unflinching, and won’t take shit. They seem to think I don’t care, that the words glance off, yet feel guilty when they say something unduly cruel or critical to me. A friend of mine said once, “I don’t think I could handle saying anything nasty to you; I’d think I would kill myself afterward and damn myself straight to hell. Maybe it’s those big eyes, but maybe not.” I don’t know if it’s because I’m decent and nice to those who deserve it, or because I command some amount of respect from the people I know. But people seem almost afraid to hurt me, afraid to ever hear me whimper, even though I have this almost supernatural ability to get under people’s skin and apply direct pressure on just the right buttons at just the right moments. Little nibbles on the heels.