you're afraid you won't know what to say when i won't settle for 'maybe it's better this way'. the problem at hand is this problem at its end: this sick sense of commitment to these words, this loss, this lie. this time, just shut the fuck up. and it always feels like shit; you've broken no new ground. only, this time, i'm not hiding. this time i know you're wrong. if you wanted to end this so bad, why didn't you just say so? i wanted to be there so bad.