A rock. Self-contained.
When things go wrong, they come to you, and with a good heart you board the boat, make it to their shores and pitch a tent – and they leave garbage around you, which you sort through with a good heart. And then when it’s clear they are done with you, you board your boat and go back to your island. You have acted with empathy, put up with slights and being ignored – the sign for you to go – and you push out past the waves to return to your island.
There is a comfort to the island, an easy familiarity, a distance from the problems of others as you weather your own storms as you always have – as you have always had to, your fire a lighthouse of sorts for those that venture onto the beach.
It takes time, but you learn that there is no reciprocation – that the relationship itself is toxic.
There are other ports.