Don’t look at me like that.
Don’t act like you didn’t just do what you did.
Don't make this my fault.
It happened.
You know it did.
Sure, I’ve done things.
There’s no way I’m perfect.
But you...but this...
I always told you I would forgive and forget
I forgave you the second it happened.
I knew you couldn’t really help it.
(Much as I hated it.)
But forget?
This time I flash back
To the angry little kid I was
My finger in some larger girl’s face
A girl I later called friend,
Saying sure, I’ll forgive you today,
But I will never forget this. Never.
I haven’t. I won’t.
Because that day was my fault as much as hers.
But this...but you...
I didn’t do *anything* to deserve this.
I didn’t ask for this.
And you expect me to forget this?
To forget the cool metal of a knife in my back?
I can’t.
I *won’t*.
So, you’re forgiven.
There.
Happy?
Can you sleep tonight?
Because I can’t.
I’ll be up all night, deciding...
Deciding whether or not I’ll ever be able to trust you again.