“Oh, but I cannot continue to go there. I cannot. It makes me sad, but I must let it go.” 

“Why? What stops you from following what you claim you care for? You wish to help the pups and whelps. What possible obstruction is there from so convenient a place? That is what you care about, is it not? Or was your only interest in the ability to appeal to another, who, himself was only interested in it for the sake of the companion he cost himself? It was her interest, not his, and why do you mold yourself for others instead of being who you are? Were you only feigning for applause?” 

“ … No? … No! I cannot see him, let him know where I am, see his devious face, his sickness, and remember the harm he caused. I am afraid.” 

“Did you not cause harm yourself and much greater? Did you not light the fire that burned you both with your attention and touching, your incurable flirtation and spoken entendres? Do you still deny it? Have you not deigned to see strangers of a caliber so low he could never see it, reach it? Men vile and dangerous to emotional health? And we have all been around, and we know you do not fear him. We know you reached out. We know you did not run from him on sight. Why do you persist in this ruse? Why is it now you hide?”

“I fear him, damn it!, and you must soothe my apprehension since you call yourself a friend.” 

“He always knew where you were before, and, yet, you did not quit that, not for years. And he never did a thing. So what is it you fear?” 

“That he may come for me, when I least expect it.” 

“And do what?” 

“ … “ 

“Why would he risk his hard-fought freedom just to rile you, when he never has? He knows you spit venom, knows how cold your heart is and how you twist the story to suit your whims. Why would he risk that? How long has it been, and you persist with this nonsensical nightmare you inflict upon yourself? Why?” 

“I cannot see him. That is all that anyone needs to know. I would rather subject myself to the fraudulent of faith, those with smiles hiding gnashing fangs and boiling hatred or the using, groping hands of scum than see his face.” 

“The truth begins to shine.” 

“What truth?” 

“You do not fear him, love. You do not turn away and run. No, you hide your head in shame. You fear a constant reminder, not of the bad but of the good. You fear feeling regret for what transpired and, since you cannot, will not, admit to any of it, you give up what you say you desire to do for self-fulfillment. You fear the truth. You fear being exposed for what we all know or should know that you did, and so you hide. You are a coward, sad to say, though I say it in your interest as the truth, and it is your own sickness that is your true obstacle. Instead of walking in the light, you run to those who have none and blame him. You betray the strays you sought to aid for fear of betraying your secrets, for fear of admitting things to yourself that you have tried to bury. You seek shelter from your own heart.”