I am not angry. I am not even very sad. I knew about this. I cried in my bed at night, long nights of confusion. You did not know. Cheerful, perhaps. I am cheerful. Sometimes my mind slips mid-sentence and
and I forget
I forget
I wish you could have done it to my face. Meant it. Been honest about it. I wish you would emerge from your coccoon and see the world and me. Where did you go? What is left of you inside? I see so little of You in there. I wish you could realise that we are no longer because of your lifestyle. That there are some things that are not my fault. That while I will follow you to the ends of the earth if necessary, I will not follow you into the cesspool of your current life. Uni, career, money, what are they compared with the joy of living with you? But when they are all I have, I will take them and be glad of them. You have made me stagnate and accept things I did not want to have aught to do with. That is compromise. They are all compromise.
I wish you would look at yourself from the outside, see your life as I see it.