3 am you called me from your hotel room in China, telling me how much you miss me, miss us. That the scorched bridges that we left behind have come back to haunt you. I can hear the city in background and I focus on that, scared that if I focus in on you and your voice I might find myself wanting you again. I’ve worked too hard for that. You’re good and I am too but together we’re toxic and lord knows how long it took for me to comprehend that . God it’s terrible because I can feel you clutching on that phone and the bill running in the same way my sanity is slipping from me. In some crazy way I’m hoping that it’s an illusion, a moment of weakness, a dream of some sort because you’ll always win even if I don’t want you to.