Sweet baby Jesus! Closing my room door and facing all the pretty things he got me fills me with rage; I want to break one of these damn pots. I can’t because that’ll attract him here, and then he’ll see how I truly am...

Stuffing my face in two pillows for soundproofing, I scream into the bed like my life depends on it.

Why couldn’t he offer me a dog or something? Letting me go. No, no, no. 

Keisha, he just confirmed he wanted to build something with you.

But he sounds so unsure. There’s only room for one of us to be confused here, and it can’t be him. He’s the one that brought me here!

Now you're the one that has to choose to stay.

That's not how it's supposed to go. I wanted Angel to pursue me and not let me get in my head. And- 

Lovebomb you? You do know that’s sounds hella fucked up. None of that is proof of love. In fact, it's usually the opposite.

“Oh, shut. Up!”

I turn to the bed, kicking the corner of the mattress with every fiber in my being. 

Why do I have to do all the hard work? I scream silently this time as I switch to punching pillows.

He’s a flake, just like every other freakin’ guy! I tried trusting him blindly because he seemed to offer me everything I want-

Girl, it’s been two days-

And he throws it in my face. Asking me, me, to make this work. That should be because he. Brought. Me. Here!

In my fit of rage, I do end up knocking off a pot--the soil and petals falling to the ground as the ceramic breaks.

Fuuuuuck! I hurt his plant!

He literally stalked and kidnapped you. I think hurting plants is the least egregious thing you could do in response to the situation.

But the plant. I don't want him to get upse--

Forget the plant, Sha! In my humble opinion, you are way, waaaay, too comfortable playing captive. You know Stockholm isn't a thing, right? Like no one actually falls in love with their captor--fawning is just a defense mechanism. It’s appealing to the threat in the environment. Why the hell would you want to do that?

I just want to be a gir-

Hush! Don’t start with that ‘just a girl’ nonsense. We’re not doing this today because I don’t have the patience for this today. Do I think it’s possible to turn this into a mature, healthy relationship despite its origins? Honestly, no.

Jamie!

What! You're a romantic at heart just like dad...and two fries short of a happy meal just like him too-

Hey! That's rude.

Fine. All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t be unhappy that Angel's trying to build something more, I don’t know, “normal”.Ya know…stable. Weren’t you plotting how to finesse him yesterday? Isn’t this a positive for your machinations? 

That’s not the point! If I knew he was an option, I wouldn’t have dated Issac or had any of those stupid flings with people who treated me like trash.

What are you even angry about? We told you not to do that. LakansAnonynomous told you not to go out with those people. 

“I don't know. I...I don't want to try and get my hopes up for nothing. What am I supposed to do, Jay,” I ask, trying to catch my breath. Face on the mattress, I try to hide my sniffle at the self-induced pain in my throat. 

I thought this would be different.

I say this with love: Stop bitching and use your words like a big girl. 

You’re seriously going to shit on me right now?

If you approach this like the past ones, he may not run, but you’ll never shake that feeling of what if.

“Right.”

He wants to start over. He’s asking you to give this a chance.

“How can I? I’m still so angry….and I know it’s for no reason.”

It’s not for no reason, just at the wrong person. Repeat this to yourself: He’s not gonna leave.

“H-he’s not gonna leave.”

You got to say it like you mean it.

But he might not.

You’ve been talking to him for years. And didn’t you tell Ven everything? From your hospital visits to us. Say it: He knows you’re not perfect.

“He knows I’m not perfect.”

Yet he still picked you.

“Yet he still picked me.”

Now you have to make a decision. You can’t do that wishy-washy, drawn-out, passive shit. It's either out or in.

“Yeah, that’s not fair to him.”

Uh...not exactly where I was going, but sure. Now dry your eyes.

I hadn’t even noticed the moisture on my face until they pointed it out to me. 

You need to talk to him.

“I don’t want this to go bad…”

You can’t live your life in fear all the time. 

I know. But every time I’ve been brave, it got thrown back in my face.

If it does, which it won’t, I’ll be right here to catch you. 

“Will you stay with me when I go talk to him?” 

Always, Sprite.