Look at me. Look at me, in the eyes, and tell me. Tell me, one thing. The only thing I want to know, the only thing I want from you.

One thing.

I want the truth.

I need it. After that, you can leave. You don’t ever have to talk to me again, I won’t care. Actually, you really could stop talking to me right now. But this is all I’m asking for. One thing. I need the truth, and I need it from you.

You see, I know the rest. I know the story. I know what happened. I know how it happened. I know the who, where, and when of it. I just don’t know the why.

Why do you insist on this? Can’t you see what you’re doing? Slowly ripping apart the one thing I thought I had control over.

Now I’m telling you that it’s over. And you won. You can relax. You screwed me over, and you came out on top. I know that it doesn’t matter to you, how many people you had to walk over to get to where you are now, how many lives you had to screw up, how many hearts you had to break.

All I need is the truth.

Why?