and then you give some more.
The only way to save myself is to ignore the problem. I’m not gonna think about it. I won’t think about it. There’s nothing to think about.
But I can’t control my conscience. Why can’t I stop dreaming about it?
You mean no harm. Maybe you’re just trying to make me feel better. Maybe you’re saving yourself from that awkward confrontational conversation. But as these little white lies start to pile up, I’m starting to hate you more and more. How ignorant do you think I am? Don’t just tell me what I want to hear. Tell me the truth. I deserve the truth.
At what point will your pride and ego take over and leave you with regret and emptiness?