I am not going to give you back the flowers. Neither am I going to burn them or throw them away. I am going to put them back in the green room where they belong. I will simply be returning a prop. Maybe you’ll see them there sometime. You shouldn’t have them and I shouldn’t have them. They never belonged to either of us, even though they belonged to both of us. It doesn’t mean that I take back what happened. I can’t take it back and I wouldn’t take it back. I needed it and someday you’ll see that you did, too. It hurts to see you, but I know you don’t hate me, and I don’t hate you, either.
You will never read this. Not any of it. Maybe if you did, you would understand. But it’s okay. I’m not trying to justify it.
I would hold onto you, but I feel like I’m reaching above-ness and I can’t touch the ground anymore. You may have taken my name, but you can’t take what I am.