Just as the anger and disgust bubbled up her spine, just as she was about to revel in anguished breakdown, all substance and reason behind it vanished. She could find no justification, and all the anger she had towards it turned in on herself instead. Why she had brought it unwillingly (or perhaps it wasnt so reluctant?) back into her mind, she did not know. Perhaps it was the same concept where though we know something is disgusting, we're compelled to look smell or taste it, regardless? A morbid curiosity.
Don't give up. I'm only starting to see the gravity of your situation. the extent of your damnation. In short I don't blame you for your frivolous disposition. I blame myself for not being enough to change it. That came out wrong. I can't, nor do I want to, change you. I just wish I was insentive enough to make you wish to change. Or maybe change is non-existant. I want you to grow. You're playing a static and stagnant role whilst I am flourishing and thriving. I know I'm not the same as I was when we were first in love, but the change is amplified relative your inert stance. I've always cared about you, but that too has been altered by the hand of circumstance. I've known countless feelings for you, attachment, love, lust, caring, anguish, concern. I've always felt something for you. Now it's stronger than ever before. No more silly juvenile notions of "love". I care for you like a sister, a mother, a lover, a friend. You say you don...
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