[Spoken. Dry. No music.] [one slightly out-of-tune piano note] Boundaries don’t need a press release. [one ugly guitar scrape] I don’t have to tell you I’m leaving. I don’t have to explain why the door stopped opening. I don’t have to write one more beautiful paragraph about what hurt. You were there. You know. [pause] I heard you. I heard you say you’d come. I heard you say you’d help. I heard you say you loved me. I heard you say you believed in me. I heard you. [bass barely enters] Then I watched you. [three hesitant piano notes - last one wrong] Actions over words. Actions over words. Actions over words. [silence] Patterns, not promises. Patterns, not promises. Patterns. Not. Promises. I forgive you. [simple two-note piano figure, slightly detuned] [soft] I forgive you. [long pause] That doesn’t mean I forgot where the knife came from. Forgive. Don’t forget. Forgive. Don’t forget. Forgive---- [music CUTS] DON’T. FORGET. You thought forgiveness meant unlimited access. You thought kindness meant no locked doors. You thought because I understood you I would keep volunteering to misunderstand myself. [half laugh] Cute. The unlimited-access days are oooooooooover. [low distorted bass] Over. Over. Over. No more walking in because you knocked. No more empty promises taking up chairs at my table. No more “I meant to.” No more “I was going to.” No more “You know how busy I’ve been.” Yeah. I know. I heard you. You wanna come back? [whisper] Accountability is the entry fee. [violent stop - one ugly piano chord hangs alone] [louder] Accountability is the entry fee. [layered whispers] entry fee entry fee entry fee No payment in promises. No credit for intentions. No coupons for history. No lifetime membership because I loved you once. Patterns, not promises. Actions over words. Forgive, don’t forget. [repeating, increasingly fractured] Patterns not promises Actions over words Forgive don’t forget Patterns not promises Actions over words Forgive don’t forget---- ACCOUNTABILITY IS THE ENTRY FEE. [dead silence] I love you. I do. [fragile off-key piano begins, almost like someone remembering a lullaby incorrectly] [small breath] But here’s the part I forgot to say: I love me as much as you. Maybe more now. Because somebody had to. No more draining. No more straining. No more rearranging my whole damn nervous system so you don’t have to feel uncomfortable. No more shrinking so your shadow looks taller. No more bleeding to prove I’m forgiving. This is my safe space. Not your waiting room. Not your confession booth. Not your free clinic. Not your storage unit for apologies you never meant. Not your backstage pass. Not your second face. [whisper] No two-face in my safe space. [cracked laugh] God. That almost rhymed. You don’t have to understand. You don’t have to approve. You don’t even have to know. Because--- [everything drops out] Boundaries don’t need a press release. I won’t announce your departure. I won’t drag your name through the town square. I won’t explain what you already know. I’ll just stop moving over. I’ll stop setting the extra chair. I’ll stop leaving the gate open. I’ll stop mistaking history for permission. [almost lullaby] Actions over words. Patterns not promises. Forgive don’t forget. I love me too. [repeat] Actions over words. Patterns not promises. Forgive don’t forget. I love me too. [piano repeats the same crooked four-note figure, slightly wrong every time] [guitar becomes chaotic] ACTIONS OVER WORDS. PATTERNS NOT PROMISES. FORGIVE DON’T FORGET. I LOVE ME TOO. [violent stop] You wanna come back? [whisper] You know the fee. [one final guitar string scrape] [one badly tuned piano note] [silence]
