Yes, Sunshine. Stay angry at me forever. Use this break-up as another excuse for why your life is terrible. Use this as an excuse to have a chip on your shoulder that will weigh you deeper into your habits. I did not implant in you the seed of hatred that was already blooming when we met. You will care for and nourish the deep rooted evils that run through you like blood, a mimicry of a life, fueled only by the blood of your fury. Blame me for all that could be wrong, but you will see that the melancholy willows are far too engraved in you for you to hack them away with your searing alcohol and blame.