on that night you broke your hand, I drove you to the hospital so you wouldn't have to tell your aunt and your uncle what was wrong. And I'm pretty sure the doctors thought I hit you. And even though it wasn't true I still felt like an asshole. I thought that you were so strong, to go through all of that at seventeen. But, strength isn't what it takes to put your hand through a wall. Strength is what it takes to stay calm. And just cuz we were young doesn't mean everyone else was wrong. Strength is what it takes to stay calm. And when you were nineteen, you told me how you felt and we decided to break up. Then I got drunk as hell. I thought that I was so strong. I didn't cry, not even once. But strength isn't what it takes to do three shots without a chaser. Strength is what it takes to be honest. And just cuz I didn't cry doesn't mean what I did was right. I woke up hung over and still sad.
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