I didn’t want to let him in. I didn’t want to love having him around. I didn’t want to miss having him in my corner. I also couldn’t fight him on it, because I lacked the strength needed to fight a connection so strong, which was ultimately why I’d ended up agreeing to hang out at his place the other day. I couldn’t push him away if he was intent on pushing back for a place to stay, because I didn’t hate him. I hated myself for what I did to him, for what I was still doing to him. For what I’d done to all of us.
