I'm not sorry that you broke into my room and got hurt. You deserved it, and you would have gotten your ass handed to you the first time if I'd ever really thought that someone would try to break in to begin with.
I'm also not sorry that for the message that I sent to you this morning, because it's the truth. You keep fucking up and people are going to stop helping you.
I
am sorry for the octopus thing. I don't know if it was the weird shit going on today, or just me being really pissed at you, but it was low. No matter what you did to me, even if you deserve it, I don't have a right to throw your own fears at you like that. We have enough stuff here to worry about.
I'm not apologizing to make you feel better. I'm doing it because it's the right thing for me to do. I still don't want you near me. I still think that the next time you try to break into my room it's going to end even worse for you. That's going to be
your fault, just like it was last time.
I don't know what the hell you meant about your drugs, but I never had them. I wouldn't put myself in a position to give you a reason to come into my space again. If you think someone else asked me to hide them from you, I don't like you or care about you enough to help you like that.
Just stay on your side of the door.