Too many contradictory words spill from my lips to no effect; I’ll try to gather them back into my mind, but I fear I’ll lack the words needed to describe the scene—to tell you these things in the right way. I know—and you know—that I’m not honest enough. Well, I’ll try, though I can’t promise anything. So brave, yet so scared; I try to act strong—"calm down"—but no, no, I’m not ready. You can try to calm me, but I’m not ready to forget. You can try to calm me—forget everything I said; I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: it’s not like me to pretend that my best is actually the worst I have to offer, but you leave me terrified, so nervous. I tried to answer, but I’m trembling inside. I’ll swallow my pride if you swear not to lie. It’s hard to understand, hard to explain, but don’t read too much into my words—honestly, I’m tired of being misunderstood. So brave, yet so scared; I try to act strong—"calm down"—but no, no, I’m not ready. You can try to calm me.
