Grapevine Fires.

Do you remember having to do those exercises in school when you were learning a language? You had to draw lines from one column to the next matching up the words up with the translation?

I felt sick as soon as I saw you in the front room. I couldn't go back though, you'd all seen me. I walked in the room and I didn't look at you. I'm pretty sure you didn't look at me either. I made polite conversation with the only person in the room I was comfortable. I introduced my friend to them and not you. The baby on your lap smiled at me. At least someone can get a smile out of him hey? I didn't say anything. He held hands out to me. I'd never seen the baby before. The tears from before were still wet on his face. I smiled at him and he smiled back. He beamed. I still didn't look at you. I didn't want you to offer the baby to me to hold. I didn't want eye contact with you. I didn't want any form of communication. I felt both repulsed and drawn. I made excuses to leave. You didn't offer me the baby. I didn't make eye contact. You didn't say bye. I left.

I was upset that you never spoke to him yesterday. I think it's about time you sorted it out. I know it upsets you. I'm sorry. I'm not changing because of it. I'm not sorry for that. I'm not prepared to sort it out. I'm sorry. I don't want to sort it out. I'm not sorry about that. He's a good son. I know. It doesn't change anything. I'm sorry.