I couldn’t handle a ghost in my life. A woman in Seattle is crying for you, which would have happened no matter the outcome. Happy, sad, relieved, broken, distraught, hopeless, angry, whatever, it’s always the same.
Desire has nothing to do with anything. You’ve brought me years of heartache, you wouldn’t have that power if you were meaningless. That’s the problem, you’ve always meant too much and it’s always been one sided. You never stepped up. My desire doesn’t play into this.