I just couldn’t put my finger on you. All these so called little things, your conveniences at the expense of mine. Subtly made to feel guilty when you acted like Jesus, after I said No, after which I started to do what you wanted. All the while thinking I was the one who was unreasonable, extreme, selfish refusing to do such little things for you. Little, little things, heaping up, to slowly wear me down. You told me you spent days feeling broken after I’d hurt you. I have never thrown this is the face of anyone who has hurt me, because my emotions are my responsibility. Why would you want me to know? Silence, doe facedness and “Thanks” your leash on me. Enough!