I can’t decide if I was right or wrong for giving up and shutting you out.
We both know you ****** up, and we both know that I’m terrible at forgiving, and even though I said, “I’m fine,” you know better than I do that it was just another defense I built back for myself so you didn’t have to feel bad and I didn’t have to feel forced into trying steer us away from the cliff, even though you kept clawing your way towards the edge– dragging me along as if I were some sycophantic, conjoined-twin trophy.