It’s the end of the day.
I feel, big fucking surprise, very split on it all.
He told me not to worry about where it came from, only to worry about what I would put it toward.
Easy for him to say. He didn’t even need it. I’m not sure if he ever needed it.
I wasn’t going to put it toward anything. Quite the opposite, actually, I was going to put it toward nothing.
He could go fuck himself.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out what I knew he was expecting in return, a small locket emptied just a couple days before.
It was an easy trade, physically, but mentally it fucked us both.