Just as well. Insincerity is time-consuming and pointless. But give me something real, something that twists and rends and then I'll know.

And I would say to you:

Yes, yes, it was all so ridiculous. What I had WAS second-rate. And you were right, it WAS sleazy. And oh! The drama! How immature! I should've known how stupid I was, how it was such a bother to you. And the broken man, yes, we should all feel so sorry for him. After all, we love him so very much.

And I would take it all back- the excuses, the reasons, the pain. I would undo everything that ever made me look foolish, not to save myself or some image of propriety, but to save you the trouble of it all. Such anguish, I'm sure, wasting precious space in your pretty head. I can't imagine how you did it, how you so bravely took it upon yourself to care, to be angered by the actions of others, even though it had nothing to do with you.

So I take it all back and I admit my idiocy and blame my stupid, foolish heart for ever getting in the way of other people's lives. I can't begin to fathom the trauma I inflicted, the grief I caused.

I was in love and I'm sorry.