You did this to me. You made me junk. You ruined me. I hate you. I hate myself. I want to die. I think I'll kill myself. Alcohol. Drugs. Didn't die. The pain's too bad. Can't die. Desperate. Have to do something. Recovery?
Those I once blamed for the hopelessness of my condition I ended up crediting with my recovery.
If you hadn't pushed me into so desperate a situation I wouldn't have needed so powerful a solution.
The anger turned to gratitude.
But then, I saw that you didn't mean it to help. But you didn't do it to hurt either. In fact, it had nothing to do with me. Nothing to do with me at all.
The gratitude dissolved.
The anger remained gone.
You were just playing your part and I'm playing mine. No blame.
Rafting down the river here watching it all float by.
Or is it me floating by?
Yep. It's one of those. And both. And neither.
Floating by dissolved.