Into the Wild

You've asked me to make a decision, but there are some decisions that simply cannot be made. I freely admit that I caused you unbearable pain. I acted out of selfishness, out of fear, out of loneliness, out of desperation. Who among us hasn't done that?

You've asked me to bind myself to something in which I can never believe, simply because you wish it to be so. You have asked me to let you control me, in order that you might believe I have relinquished control over you. But I've never been able to control you. I've never even been able to control myself. That's how we got here, isn't it?

You've asked me to make a choice that proves what I've always known and what you've stopped believing, at the same time it renders it unviable.

You've asked, in short, for me to do what I've always been sworn to do but have until now failed miserably at accomplishing: to do what's best for you, at the expense of my own personal needs and desires. The one thing I learned best from you is that this never leaves anyone satisfied.

You've asked, darling, for the one thing that was never mine to give.