He thought that he was a time bomb. At any moment he would say the wrong thing, let one thing go and-
The whole relationship gone. And anything he cared about in himself with it.
He was always afraid of hurting me. But in truth I was the suicide bomber. I was the one with a timer inside. A trigger that no one knew about that could be pulled at any second. A ticking, flashing that anything might activate and then-
Cause there’s no telling how far the blast will go and if you’ll be able to survive.
Get out of here. Before you kill him. Before you kill yourself. Get out of here. Before it’s all too late.
He tried so many times to tell me to go. Tell me he’d break me. Tell me he’d kill me. But I waited. I stayed.
Get this timer out of me.
Because killing you will be the death of me.
“Just because I check my gun at the door doesn’t mean my brain will change from a hand grenade.”