Are we human sticky buns, glue-meisters clinging to persons, possessions and relationships? Trouble that way lies. Not that persons, possessions and relationships are inherently troublesome. Not at all. But stickiness? That’s the devil.
It’s a long climb out of a deep hole for men who’ve been psychologically incested by boundary-less mothers in homes with absent or uncomprehending fathers. I don’t encounter this often. Still, often enough.