Where do I even begin?
I can’t begin.
I don’t want to begin.
Because beginning this signifies the end.
The end of us.
It hurts to even write “us” now.
What have you done?
What have I done?
What have we done?
We killed it.
I can’t decide whether we suffocated it until its dying breath or whether we just watched it struggle and die, doing nothing.
Does it matter?
All that matters now is that it is dead. Over.
And now we both have to live with the pain.
The consequences of our actions.
Your lack of.