me: I can't take it no more, I want out. you: [insert corny romantic heart breaking breathtaking unbelievable quote here] me: I didn't mean it,I'm sorry, I love you. you win, again. I just sit and wait for every 11:11 just to have my chance of wishing that we'll turn out fine.
Was it my fault? Or was it yours? We'll never know. And it won't make a difference now either.