"I wish you would just be honest with me?"
I'm tired of carrying this old second hand suitcase, stuffed with resentments... everywhere I go.
It's heavy.
It's been dragged, dropped, stolen and snooped in.
Talked about over some cocktails, when I'm not in the room or not in the picture.
Emotions and thoughts become decisions and actions.
Those actions become your secrets.
You have every right to them.
So I will just shove this resentment, into that old suitcase with all the other ones.
I move forward and it drags behind me.
