I don't know who I am. Or maybe I do know who I am and I just don't want to be her anymore.
Really? Was that how you quit me?
I'll let you go. If you stay.
If you can't trust me with a choice, how can you trust me with a child?
Sarcasm creates a chasm between yourself and others.
How can it be so unclear to her when it's like the fingers on my hand to me?