It is said that words can be lethal.
A poison that does not terminate you right away; but rather rejoices in watching you while you close your eyes and let a tear, or a dry sigh, or a mute chest pain; out.
It is said that once words come out of one’s mouth, there is no way to bring them back in.
A different choice of sentences might follow, bringing about either additional pain or extreme disconcert.
“You are not the person I need”
7 words. 1 sentence. Silence.
What are you talking about?
Why are you injecting me with this virus, purposefully knowing that I will bleed to my death without a single chance of struggling for a cure?
Why have you chosen my mind to entertain yours?
Let’s try to make sense of this chaos; why exactly are you pointing at me with your finger and clarifying that I am not within your assortments of needs?
This is the first time I hear that you need somebody else but you, to heal your own wounds. Past and present ones. And those you are building now for your future.
This is the first time I hear that you are broken and, apparently, willing to put yourself together again; but that there is not a single thing I can do about it.
So you are just, basically, what? Letting me know?
I am not the person you need.
Now I know.
Now you know I know.
The oddity here is, now I also know you are not the person I want to choose.