I am not a doll or puppet you can neatly take off your shelf and play with, when you are in the mood. You can’t put people away in bins under your bed because you are done with them. Your all or nothing demeanor leaves me left standing without flooring. Its been months and I still can’t get myself to read what i wrote the night “we” ended. I poured my soul onto those pages, am I ready to reopen the wounds?