A few months ago you had decided to let go of your wife. You seemed fiercely resolved, even discussing it with people that are close to me who came to call you a friend. What happened to that?

What hapnened to the promises you made to me? They were just as strong as vows, you know. Vows are nothing more than formalized promises. There were witnesses to your promises. Again, my friends...our friends.

I understand matters of the heart overriding all logic in the brain.

I understand the grieving process involved in a breakup. I've been there before.

But...at the moment you're lost to me, caught in a downward spiral that's bent on consuming you if you let it, and you're shutting me out.

I believed you, trusted your words, your eyes, the glimpses I had of your soul when you were in my arms, when you were inside of me.

Love should not be a hand-me-down.

Perhaps I am Pollyanna, though, I never thought myself naive. Perhaps I just can't help from staying because somewhere along the line I started falling in love with you, as I thought you were with me. Perhaps I'm just an idealist, an optimist, a dreamer, a hopeless romantic. Well, we know the last two statements to be true. I'm still debating whether the first cancells it all out.

This isn't the kind of Mistress I was expecting to be to you.

Call me a fool, but I'll stick around and see how things pan out. At least for a little while.

You ain't gonna make a fool outta me.
I'm prepared to catch myself.

It's a price I'm willing to pay for a chance at love.

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