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Even If You Push First...

The morning raids my feelings. And we're left behind at the beginning. Did it ever matter that you ransacked me? That we occasionally still share a flat from time to time. I play getting by. But the loss is hitting me in ways I couldn't foresee. If you felt happy at being the one who brought me out of my shell, watch now and see me retreat into my lowly shell.

I know who you see and I'm in an exercise group being the token bloke. The fascination stops there given I'm at the midway point among all else. I kept pushing and pushing but my body has given out. It's nice of you to say you feel guilty but it doesn't do much for me. I still live with the pain. There's not a whole lot from which I can gain.

If I could retreat further, if I could all but disappear, maybe I could feel something again. Both of us will move out, another chapter in our lives gone. You just had to needle your way and blame past history on me. You never took account of your actions until you've cheated. It's why I suppress my anger because I've seen this before. If I lose my temper, you'll start crying again. Even if you push first, then accuse me of shoving.

None of this means anything anymore. I've done worse before. But I know the way you dredge these things up, I always know I'm never really forgiven much less forgotten. But maybe these things will change in the coming years if I don't have to hear about his downsides.

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