You freeze in your tracks. A thick impenetrable fog obscures all that is, but you don’t need to see it in order to know the truth, to sense it, to be filled with the most paralyzing dread.
Someone is there. Someone is coming.
She emerges from the fog. She is close to you. You can’t run. Where would you even go? She draws near. She stares at you. No, she stares into you. She is opening her mouth. She will speak now.
“I’m selfish, impatient and a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control and at times hard to handle. But if you can’t handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don’t deserve me at my best.”
UGH
