𝙏𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙤 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨. 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭, 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥. 𝙈𝙮 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙥 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚. 𝘐𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘵, 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘴. 𝙈𝙮 𝙥𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙚𝙡𝙪𝙙𝙚 𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙣𝙤 𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙡𝙚𝙙𝙜𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛. 𝘕𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘭𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜.

‘Confession is not betrayal. What you say or do doesn't matter: only feelings matter. If they could make me stop loving you -- that would be the real betrayal.'