That isn't going make me want to stay my dear...
It also isn't going to make me hate you,which is the only other reason I could logically fathom you'd double down on toxic behavior. It just makes me pity you. I know your potential for greatness in all things and I see it misused for the chaos you truly love to be enveloped in.
The emotional decay into preschool processing is sad. Threats come. Of legal ramifications; I'll do the time but everything is so very well documented on both sides with so many witness that have seen both sides. Of suicide; I can't feel guilty for doing everything in my power and being told it's not enough by the same mouth who has told me every thing about me isn't enough for them.
There's love in your heart for me. I'll give you that. I still don't believe it's comparable to the love I have for you. More the love you have for electricity in the middle of summer and you have access to air conditioning. Love because it is part of something else. A piece in the chain. Not the whole. And unfortunately instead of doing simple things that would classify as putting in the work and would prove me wrong. You choose to die on the hill you're on. Except no one's running up that hill, no one cares to be near it.
In 12 hours and 23 minutes it will be 42 years since the moment I was ripped from my mother's womb in such a rush because if they waited any longer another contraction would kill me. I don't want to go into 42 worried if I stay in place without changing it will metaphorically or actually kill me or you.
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