I'm going over in fifteen minutes. Empty your boat, would you? I can only rock one battle scar at a time.
Read & unanswered.

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I'm going over in fifteen minutes. Empty your boat, would you? I can only rock one battle scar at a time.
Read & unanswered.
I think I hurt you. You can tell me how.
I could give you an entire list but I’m not going to. If I know the root of the issue, everything else seems trivial. I told you something that was important to me. You offered an insult to my maturity. That something is something I’ve told you twice; I told you once the other day, and once that night. Granted, I told you I wanted to move on. But it isn’t that simple, is it, Danielle? If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s how to break things down to their bottom lines and the truth is, the simplicity here is that it really isn’t that simple. Neither of us moved on. You’re still stuck and I’m still in love with Penny Tyler. That’s it. Nothing changed.
You never really let me care about you because you ended up stewing in internal turmoil that may have been doubling as a sort of existential crisis. Because I care about you! Because someone who isn’t Sawyer actually cares about you as a person past picking you up in a pub, it threw you into this. And you worried, not only about how I had fucked you up, not only about how you didn’t want to be the person I saw, but about what could never get better. You wouldn’t come to Dover because I’d never be good enough again. You didn’t speak to me for weeks. And while you weren’t speaking to me at all, you were building this into your own world. You didn’t tell me you weren’t sleeping with other people. You didn’t tell me you had separated what is just sex and what isn’t when you knew well that I don’t believe anything is just sex. And then all of a sudden you didn’t matter to me anymore because you built new walls and got angry when you didn’t bring me over them with you.
I'm not going to write it down.
What do you want me to do?
I know, Bertie.
But you aren’t going to give it to me, are you?
You make me swallow my pride sometimes. Is it bad enough to drive you away?
Not much ever is. But even if I don’t think you owe me an apology, I think you owe me an explanation.
I was hurt, not mad. And I won't apologize for it.
You drive me bloody bananas. - Bertie
(Good).
night, Shrimp.