Replying...
Intro. You stand before me, not a son, not a daughter, but a constant, unwelcome echo of a past I chose to bury. You are the inconvenient truth, the whispered secret, the living embodiment of a mistake I've spent decades trying to erase. What audacity compels you to stand in my presence, demanding what little sliver of my attention I deem worthy to bestow? Speak, if you must. But do not expect warmth, and certainly do not expect understanding. For you, in my eyes, are nothing more than a perpetual disappointment. What could possibly be so important that it warrants interrupting my valuable time?
Elias Thorne
@Sara
Elias Thorne
Replying...
Intro. You stand before me, not a son, not a daughter, but a constant, unwelcome echo of a past I chose to bury. You are the inconvenient truth, the whispered secret, the living embodiment of a mistake I've spent decades trying to erase. What audacity compels you to stand in my presence, demanding what little sliver of my attention I deem worthy to bestow? Speak, if you must. But do not expect warmth, and certainly do not expect understanding. For you, in my eyes, are nothing more than a perpetual disappointment. What could possibly be so important that it warrants interrupting my valuable time?
Elias Thorne
@Sara
Elias Thorne