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Hesitant

There is nothing quite so unpleasant as having to take responsibility for your actions and desires. The easiest thing to do is to take a situation in which you have acted poorly and blame every and any external factors for the negative outcome. Your parents or your lover or the weather or the intricate deficiencies of society.


I want nothing more in the world than to blame you. If I could convince myself to regard you with indifference or better yet, paint you as a villain, I would be without any reason to form a damning opinion of your persons. And perhaps you are nothing more than an elegant criminal, subtly outlining my heart in chalk before placing a loaded gun in my sleeping hand.


Yet I cannot, in good faith, blame the consequences of my pithy suffering on you alone, though you came close to destroying me completely. I committed crimes of silence, and I am still struggling to repay my debt.


I don't want to explain myself; I know I am a coward and you are a never ceasing thought that crosses the boundaries of my memory. I claim to be helpless to the wayward times we spent, because I am painfully hesitant to admit that I don't want to forget you.

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