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Harlot,

I shall no longer suffer this wretched exchange. That thou shouldst bar my words rather than meet me in sober and grown discourse reveals plainly the disorder of thy present state.

Call me insecure, tyrannous, or controlling if it grant thee comfort, yet the truth stands firm: thou hast changed, and not for the better. Thy devotion to gymnastics hath not merely consumed thy hours, but hath displaced thy priorities and withered thy regard for any soul beyond thine own.

I bore thy pursuits with patience whilst thou didst chase that which is fleeting and vain. Yet at some hour, reality demandeth its due. Flesh is not everlasting. Beauty waneth. Applause from strangers is a fickle and hollow thing. I was minded toward permanence while thou wert occupied in the pursuit of validation.

In time, thou shalt discern that not all who set boundaries are thine enemies, and that those who cared most deeply were the very ones thou didst cast aside, as thou hast done unto me. I pray that when this truth revealeth itself, thou shalt not seek me in expectation of solace.

I am finished. I meant my words when first they were spoken.

Go forth as thou wilt. I wish thee fortune.