It’s beyond her comprehension that I would not care, or would not want to hear about anything she’d share. She is unwilling to accept that as far as I am concerned, she is but a void. More like a blackfly to swat at. A nuisance really. Not one to feel anger toward, or even pity. Not to cry and sling snot over; there isn’t any. I burnt that bridge. She cannot cross. I went on my way. She can bask in her delusions. I’ve no more to say.