Same Light

I'm trying to think of what you could do that would estrange us. I don't know what it would be. It would have to be something horrible, and I mean on the far side of horrible, to get me to that place where I didn't want to see or hear from you. I can tolerate a lot.

I'm thinking you'd have to cut part of me off. Like I'd have to wake up with no ears, or no fingers, or a missing leg and a lot of blood or something like that. And even then I'd have to ask, "Well, did you have a good reason?" If you didn't cut out my tongue, that is.

Yes, I could forgive most horrible things. Murder, arson, betrayal, lies, all those things. Heck, I'd probably ask if you needed help burying the body. Which is an interesting thing to realize about oneself. That if I could tolerate that much, am I capable of doing it as well? Would you see me in the same light? Would you get your shovel?

It's hard to say. It's a difficult question to ask. And I don't think I would ever ask it. Because, as sure as I could ever be, there's that part of me that's scared of what you'd answer. And scared that, when I heard it, I'd never want to see you again.