It’s not me, it’s you. I am not going to sit here and pretend the problem was me when very clearly it was you. You don’t get to treat me like I am nothing but a fire you need to warm your hands by only to douse it out when the time has come to leave. I am not a glass of water for you to drink from and throw the rest into the sink. You don’t get to spread a wildfire in my heart, burn this forest I have tended so carefully to the ground and walk away with a slap on the wrist like “it’s not you, it’s me”. I am better than that, I am the healing you desperately needed but chose not to see. So forgive me for saying what needs to be said here, it was unequivocally, a hundred percent you, not an ounce of this was on me.
