Poor George, hear me out.

whoa.
slow down.
I didn't mean to.
My motives are honest.
This wasn't supposed to blow up in my face or yours.
How can this beauty cause so much tension?
Broken Bridges.
Try and fix it, try and fix it.
I don't have enough planks or ropes.
I need yours too.
If you haven't any to spare, ok.
But that seems to be a reoccurring theme.
I know that now I'm just a reoccurring theme in hindsight.
I didn't want to be just a bad memory or taste left on the cerebral palette.
I thought we were better than that rubbish.
I don't know if I thought wrong.
I know it stings, I know it bites, I know it gashes.
This wasn't my intent. I've got grazed bruises on my vessel.
My wounds fester and rot, I'm not apathetic.
Honesty shouldn't lose.
and it doesn't.
Last week wasn't a proclamation, just truth.
If you can't take my honesty as what it is, and not as hope,
Why were you still around?
My insensitivity is matched with my honesty.
Lies do not slide off my tongue
My lips do not speak falsehoods with the intent of toying.
But as if I have acted untruthfully, accusations and insults dig at me.
With foolish intent to fight fire with fire.
Except, There was no fire.
Still I remain bombarded.
Didn't this happen before?
Wasn't it not as severe as it seemed?
Why must now this trash our bond?
It shouldn't be like this.
I don't give up, I can't tell if you do.
So that's it then.
I don't expect you to understand my motives or process of thought.
But my actions are just a mirror of what's been revealed to me.
I remain open, free and willing, I just follow what I'm told to do.
I'm not sorry it this way.
It's his plan.
I am sorry it's this way.
It shouldn't have to drain you.
I don't want to lose us.
I'll respect you and leave you be,
But I'm still here.
I'm still thankful for what we have, had, have.
Goodbye George.