You know, that bloody hurt.

I know, that you don’t think what you’ve just said is cruel.

But thats just it.

You never ever think.

For anyone.

But yourself.

Keep a record of all that you’ve said.
Implied.
Referenced.

Then 5, 10, or even 20 years from now, read what you said.

If you aren’t

shamed,
repulsed,
disgusted,

you will never know why this bond suffered.

Why despite your pity attempts at what you think are apologetic sentences, the disdain remains.

Never will it occur to you, the desire I have to hear three simple words.

The deed can even be finished in two.

And when you do learn the magically gate to friendship, there will be no more bridges for you to cross to return.

So let me refrain from wooden planks, ropes and skilled labour.

The only thing I have ever needed were things a young child could provide.

But a teenager cannot.

That you cannot.

That I will not.

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