Screw you. I instigated everything. Conversations, arguments, cessations - everything. One-way street. I let my foot off the gas a bit and look where we are now. The middle of nowhere.

Consider this an open letter. I don't know who the recipient is, but if this rings a bell, you can bet that it'll be my last letter to you if you don't open up a two-way. Curse me out if you have to, but I'm tired of instigating everything.

In the mean time, I think I'll write my anger into lyrics. If this letter doesn't quite hit the spot, perhaps a song will.

Audieau, chienne.