Every time you bring this up, I'm not sure how to continue this conversation. Should it be a thank you for the life advice, smiley face and thumbs up or should I say some part of me turn numb (the verb was die. Yet realistically die was too strong a word)?

The reason why I did not press to go home in Feb - I was not ready to see you. Or to interact with you. Your answer to missing me was to fuck me seems to have pushed me to the edge of the cliff. From my perspective, there's seem to be nothing more apart from fucking me. This. Hurts. Me. Alot.