iMessage
Do you think you could have softened? It would have been impossible in there. For a while, that was all I dreamed about. You—gentle. I felt so close to you at times in that place. I know now that you forced it, manufactured it. But you were vulnerable too. After I learned there was a strategy, I felt so used and angry. But part of me knows you were just a messed up human bumbling through life, clinging onto it by a thread. You fixated on me. Wedging yourself into my most vulnerable moments, like when I wept to that song about grief. You wanted me to fix you. To be your fix. To get you high for hours past sunrise until you sped away in your fast red car, alone. To fend off your loneliness. To be a mirror that reflects back a vision of the man you wish to be. Don't answer the question. It doesn't matter anymore
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