*feverish

I’m okay with that.

I know… Sorry.

Don’t do the look.

Good.

I’d like to see them try to fire me.

Then there’s no one else.

Do you want me to be happy?

But that doesn’t mean you have to give up everything, you can still have things for yourself, you can still want things.

I know.

Camille….Don’t let that be a defining factor in all of this.

I say this every time. I don’t want that life. I don’t care what stresses, what obstacles, what difficulties there are. I’m glad I met you, I want you in my life.

You never have to say sorry to me Camille. It’s okay.

How I feel and react you can’t control that. I can’t even control that half the time. Whether you’d called me, or I’d found out another way. Things would be the same.