...What would you say? What would you do?
If time was running out to say all the things that you needed to say, would your brain figure it out, or would you be left empty, wishing you'd said more?
When it's you that begins the process to separate, yet you're still the one left huddled on the floor, crying, wishing things could be different, then what?
When the closest non-family member of your life finally decides he can't talk to you any more, what is left?
I started this. Why can't I finish it? Am I that much of a coward?
Why can't I be angry? After all the things he's done to me, after everything I've endured, why can't I call upon the anger to shield me from all this pain? Why do I still wish contact?
I'm afraid.
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