I told you clearly that there was a bomb in my heart, but still you pushed the button. Now you want to know why I don't care, and all I can tell you is that I don't care. That I'll never trust again. That I resent you. That I forgive--only a little bit, but this nagging memory of mine won't stop pestering me. You bring me the remnants, knowing they can't be put back together. Some days I wonder why you even try.