For weeks now, I have looked at her and saw more to her than ever before. I have never seen someone working so much, turning all the wheels inside of them. What is she building in there? Was it walls to lock me out, or was it a ladder to get out from the trap she felt I put her in? I may never have the answers, and I am starting to be okay with that. I finally read the letters I received on the day she chose to walk away. I started filling in the empty spaces in my head with the truth, no matter how much that truth hurt. The night I finally read them was the night I finally set a match to whatever she was building. I can see the burnt insides of what she had made inside of herself over the years. I see now that I am no longer to blame for how things end. She has been incapable of love for far too long. I was her practice field, and she is now playing with real people's hearts.