I don't ask for forgiveness. I demand you listen. She's gone. And you think I'm supposed to feel... what, regret? Guilt? You don't understand. She was rotting from the inside when I found her-smiling through decay, calling it healing. I didn't hurt her. I unwrapped her. I peeled her down to something honest, something that screamed. She thinks I broke her. But no-I introduced her to herself. And she couldn't stand what she saw. She ran because I loved the parts she wanted dead. Because I saw her flaws and called it beautiful. I tried to fix her. Was it my fault that she was weak?
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