“I don’t understand you,” he said, voice cracking with anguish. “You don’t return my e-mail, you barely return my calls, and when you do agree to meet me, you show up an hour late. You tell me that you love me and then you treat me like dirt. Everything that you have ever asked me to do for you, I have done. Everything you want from me I give you. I would give my life for you. Why do you treat me this way?”
I refocused my eyes from the open window behind him, and stared into his red-rimmed eyes with contempt. “Why do you let me?”
– Kristin Danforth

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