No matter how busy I am. No matter where I am or what I’m doing. No matter how many times you tell me that I’m wrong. I still feel like I’m not being told the whole story. I still have a sense I’m being lied to. Even now, we hung up the phone with each other just an hour ago and you told me you needed to go so you could clean your bathroom but my gut says that’s not what you’re doing. I fucking hate it!
You tell me you don’t want to come stay with me this weekend because you have things you want to do at home but my intuition is speaking louder and won’t let me accept your reason you’re not coming here is that innocent. Especially when you know how hard things are for me right now.
