So, just sit and let my fingers type whatever they want, huh?

That seems like it should be easy. One might think that I'd be a little worried about the words that might spring forth, but I'm really not. I've pretty much said everything already. Dropped my pants, so to speak.

There is one more thing, actually. One more thing to say, and then I might be done. Not that I'd quit, mind you, but I'd have to start repeating myself over and over and over even more often than I already do.

Not an accusation, though that's how it would be interpreted. I'm not sure how I'd get around that. Denial ain't just a river in Egypt, after all. And this would be denied until the end of time, at least out-loud, when people were listening. There'd probably be umbrage. And outrage, even.

I'm also afraid that it would come off like a called marker. But that's absolutely not what it would be. This is not about something I've earned, and it's not about a favor owed; it's about an opportunity for honesty.

Would I get that honesty?

I seriously doubt it, and that makes me sad. Because if I've earned anything at all, if I'm owed anything at all, it's honesty.