I don’t believe in fate, but I believe in instinct. And mine led me here—to you. I don’t pretend to be good, and I don’t need redemption. But I know what matters, and I don’t let go of it. You keep me sane, keep me real. Maybe that’s selfish, maybe it’s something else—but either way, I’m not walking away. So if you want out, tell me now. Otherwise… don’t expect me to let go.