[Saturday, October 3^rd, 11:31pm]

I want you to be happy, I promise that is all I have wanted for you…for us, just bliss and a future together. I just—

[Profusely emphatic dragging of the right-hand palm across the face.]

I’m sorry for everything I have done to you. I really didn’t mean any—

Did you ever think our life was going to keep going this direction? That we could avoid the inevitable? I just—I’m so tired, I really am. I just want to lay down and forget all about it. I—

I know.

[Despite this solemn claim, it is overtly fallible, otherwise this argument would not have happened (at least with this level of intensity). Eyes anchor on the ground, as if something would expectantly creep out of the crevices of the faux wooden tiles in the living room.]

Do you really? If it wasn’t for all these memories that repeat on loop again and again—I wish I could just forget all about it. I just can’t believe this is happening. I thought you were the one. I  thought all those times, those special moments together—this, this lie, this was all just a waste of time. I mean, I know I fucked up too and it’s not all your fault but fuck how did we end up so messed up I just can’t believe it—

[A maudlin state threatens the stiffness and coercion of the hidden feeling that all is lost. At this moment the gentleness of a once-quixotic expression held for too long (too long really) succumbs to the endless formation of creases during intense sobbing.]

I’m sorry.

[Effusively sentimental weeping continues.]

I kept quiet too many times—didn’t say what I wanted to how I wanted to—I just didn’t know how to say it—I, I promise I just never figured out how to talk to you during those times—those times you were just so angry, so frustrated. It was too much, for both of us. You had your own baggage—I just couldn’t do it anymore, could you have gone any longer? I mean there is just no viable way right now—

[Belaboring of non-reconciliatory, surreptitiously defensive remarks disguised as commiserative continue. Clearly X is enervated and disillusioned w/r/t Y’s shortcomings (to some volatile degree as per the disparate feelings of love and resentment) and the relationship (this being very much a matter of disillusionment exclusively).]

You caged me.

I wanted you to fly free—don’t you see? I always rooted for you and this—all I wanted was for you to be happy.

I couldn’t get what I wanted with you; you wouldn’t let me.

[Sobbing subsides. Attenuation of irregular breathing occurs as whimpering continues.]

I just wanted you to be mine; to know you’d be there no matter what. I’m sorry.

I can’t do this anymore, this is—too much, it’s just too much.

I wish circumstances would’ve been different.

You promised you’d be there for me.