She had always been an introvert preferring her books, her writings and her piano to people. Her circumstances magnified her introversion. A country life, little exposure to people. She would want to be with school friends, but that seldom happened. She adored her family, depended on them, felt safe and protected.
Even after life changed and she had to at least pretend to be an extrovert for her work, secretly, she could never bring herself to trust other people. When she had trusted, she’d been hurt.
She’d always heard others say that you really only had a handful of true friends in your entire life. As she entered the last quarter of her life, she had learned that to be true from her own painful experiences. By then, her heart had hardened and any affinity for people she’d had sliced away leaving a scar.