I trusted you once. Looked up to you. You were so smart, so good-looking. Focused. I could see that you would go far. I listened to your dreams, the things that you wanted to achieve, the illnesses you would cure. When you spoke, I soared with you. You do that, you know.
And then she came and all she was to you was research. Nothing more.
Not a person. Not a soul.
Just research. Data.
Even when she was breaking down, even when her body failed her and all we could do was give her comfort – you didn’t care, did you? All you cared for was what she gave you. Those precious numbers on your graphs, the symptoms, the problem areas, the side effects. She was all that, but not a person. Not to you.
But you can’t live on dreams, can you? I can’t. Maybe you can. I don’t know. I think you’ve kind of lost the forest for the trees.
I get that maybe you don’t believe in God… in that "meaning of life garbage". I get that you don't have salvation anxiety, for all that she taught you about it.
You don’t have to.
But I wish you’d listen to your heart for once.
If you still have one.