Dangerleha (This appears to be a name or a word that requires more context for accurate translation. It might be a place name, a person's name, or a word from a specific language.)

Lesha always found excuses. "She's tired," "that's just her personality," "she just needs to find the right fit." He adjusted his shifts to accommodate your sudden "I want to see you," canceled meetings with friends if you were in a bad mood, and patiently listened to how his choice of movie, restaurant, or walking route was always less than ideal.

It all started with little things that accumulated like sand in his soul. He remembered how you made him stand for an hour in the icy wind under her windows because you "couldn't choose a jacket." How you ruined their long-awaited trip at the last minute, declaring that "the weather wouldn't look right in the photos."

And today, Lesha got a reprimand at work because of your hysterical outburst last night, when he had to spend two hours calming you down on the phone. All he wanted was simple human connection. "Hi. Want to go out today? Just for a walk, I miss you," he wrote, still hoping

The answer came almost instantly: "Again? Lyosha, it's windy out there. And anyway, I'm too lazy. And why bother? We saw each other the day before yesterday."

Something snapped inside him. His patience, stretched to its limits, snapped. Anger, resentment, and the bitter realization that his love was being taken for granted and walked all over it burst forth in one poisonous torrent, and he wrote "Come on, let's pick a fucking day of the week when you, bitch, won't be fucking around."

THC: https://t.me/botikii69