You said I could depend on you for that, didn't you? You said I can always depend on you for that. Where are you now then? Too busy. You're all talk, as usual. But then, everyone is. Such beautiful, empty words. The truth is, no matter what anyone, no matter what everyone says, the only one who would look after me is myself. It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, I can handle this on my own. I have to handle this on my own, because people don't really care about what's happening to me. Scratch that. People don't really care what what's happening's doing to me. What they care about, what they want to know is what's happening. Because that's how people are. they say curiosity killed the cat, but I say the cats' curiosities are killing me. Because they don't listen. They judge even before the story is halfway told.
And I really don't want to think about any of this so I was thinking of getting drunk with you the way we always used to whenever one of us had a problem or even if no one did, but oh well.
Anyway, even if you showed up outside my house with a case of beer and we drowned my sorrows in alcohol the way we drowned our inhibitions almost one year ago that night at the pool, it won't matter. It's too late. You're a couple of weeks too late darling. Nothing can undo this. Not even you.
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