You say
“If both she and I were dangling by our feet
over an active volcano
and you only had enough time to save one of us
which would it be?”

“Well…honestly?”
I ask
You nod.

“Neither of you.”
I answer bluntly.
“I’d freeze up.
I’d start thinking past the choice,
because the choice is too hard to make
I’d recite what I’d say at your funerals over and over
and I’d  just deal with the responsibility of my inaction.”

You leave a red hand print across my face
and do not speak to me for the rest of the day.
I learn that you don’t want me to be honest,
you want me to choose you.
I’ll make you breakfast and apologize
in the morning.

For now, I’ll sit here in self-pity
maybe finish the book I was reading
before you interrupted me
to ask that stupid question.