The deal

You had my back.

I had yours.

Because that was the deal.

That was our deal.

No negotiating.

No way around it.

That's what it is.

I email you when I shouldn't.

I didn't think you'd read it, and now you have I regret it.

Trauma dumping.

Sorry.

I wanted to talk to my friends but they weren't cutting it.

I knew you would.

Is that so bad?

Is it so bad that I knew you'd be there?

Mostly I like sending things

Knowing you'll never read them.

I could say whatever I wanted.

So I did.

And you actually got it.

And you said.

You said.

After three years

Of not caring

Of distancing

Of nothing

And if anything fighting hating ugh

"I'm sorry".

"I hope you feel better".

"I know how you feel".

Should it mean anything?

No.

Does it?

Well.

I don't know.

I've been seeking support and I've gotten it.

You gave the standard response.

Because you don't know me anymore.

That's fine

That's fair.

I told you all the hits from my crazy year.

I want you to reenter.

That's a next step and I know that.

For now, though?

Letting me talk to you?

That's enough.

Thank you.