I haven’t been able to tell you that I’m in recovery because you can’t take this away from me. You’ve tried to have your hand in everything, asking your unfiltered questions and offering unsolicited opinions. And this you can’t have. This is too sacred and too pure for me, it’s delicate like glass. I can’t allow you into this whole room filled with glass. Not now, maybe not ever. Because your words are like sledgehammers. And have you ever seen what a sledgehammer can do to glass?