I agonised long and hard before picking up the phone. I couldn't justify it, and yet deep inside me, I knew that if I didn't, I wasn't giving myself any chance of surviving this.
"I was wondering...uh...could we arrange to meet for a chat?"
"Sure, of course."
"Uh...could we do it sooner, rather than later?"
"Is this Saturday good? Around 1.30?"
"Yeah, that would be great."
When your words turn harsh, I freeze like a deer caught in headlights. Why does it enrage you when all I was trying to do was cope with the pain you had inflamed? Why do you draw me out only to inflict more pain upon me? I don't understand.
Please, even if I ever make you angry, don't leave me. Please, even if I mess things up as I always inevitably do, please, don't leave me.