I don’t know how to be anything but selfish so when I tell you I’m done and it’s the most bitter angry self-centered thing you’ve ever seen I need you to understand that I’m leaving. That you’re better off without me. That this isn’t the first time I’ve gone through these motions that I’ve tried to be understanding and accepting. And I’m not good at it. I’m not good at this. I’m not a good person and I’m not worth the effort you don’t put in anyway. So accept that petty soul you see there and make it your gospel, make sure you see it and feel it and it galvanizes you to cast me away from you. You have so much to do and I am an anchor on your waist and you are a glass shard in my heart. I’m not a monster. I don’t want to cheapen what we are. Were. But I have to go and you need it too. I have to go. I have to be alone in here because it has to be me. I’m not worth the bodies on the altar to what I should be. Could be. I need to be alone and I don’t know how to run from us except in the hard brittle of this low moment. Cutting my palms on that glass shard and readying myself for the deluge of letting go and maybe I’ll be clean again. I’m not abandoning you, you weren’t there for me to. I’m making room to heal the wounds we’ve carried on our soulselves. This is horrible and I hate it and I know how often I collapse but I’m right I’m right I’m right I’m right I’m right and you know that. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll find you again in the next one. I’ll be the girl with the dynamite smile and maybe we’ll make it in that one. Maybe we’ll touch again after all these hundreds of years.