It hurts when someone promises you the world over and over, claiming they will deliver. Saying they are trying when all they are doing is sitting there. Sitting there watching the tears streaming down my face, the puncture wound in my chest bleeding all over the place. I’m a mess, smiling through the flood, and where are you? But sitting there, acting like you don’t know what to do, yet acting like you are trying to do, yet act like you are doing. How can you do all three at once? You don’t, because you are just sitting there, claiming you are unaware of the monster eating me inside. I know when you will stop just sitting there, when you will stand up, when you finally start walking toward me, and it will be when I have given up.