(—fortunately...) (I can—) (I can—) (—unfortunately.) I made a firm decision around a quarter after eight: I'd stop making exceptions. By nine, I'd made another eight. Told a friend I needed nothing. Very generous of me. I could hear that little sentence turning into policy. I've rehearsed my grand departure. I can nearly see the scene: I put down what isn't mine and exit without being mean. But I'm standing in the doorway making one more little deal— (One more little deal...) (One more—) (One—) I can't do this anymore. And I probably will. Don't tell me that I'm able. That was never in dispute. I can, unfortunately. I just don't always want to. (I can...) (I can...) (Un-for-tu-nate-ly...) (I just don't—) I know the difference between love and obligation until they're sitting side by side requesting an explanation. And I don't blame you for believing every "sure" I ever said; I sound so very certain when I've barely thought ahead. There's a fantasy I visit when the day is almost spent: Someone asks me for a favor, I say "no," and that's the end. ...That's the end. (That's the end.) (That's the—) (The end.) (I can't...) (I can...) (Unfortunately...) (Again.) (I can—) (You said you were finished.) I was. (So why are you still here?) ...Excellent question. Don't tell me that I'm able. I know. I know. I can, unfortunately. I just don't always want to. (Unfortunately...) (Unfortunate—) (I can...) (I can...) Not tomorrow. ...Probably. [ABRUPT CUT]
