You're not. You're just trying to avoid having to. You're choosing not to choose.

[But she's done fighting with her. The words are brittle and bitter, but without heat. She's used to being passed over, anyway; there's always something more important than her. She can't understand the logic or thought process behind this one, and that makes the hurt a little more bewildering, but at least she has other people to go to now. People who haven't tossed her away yet.]

I think you hope I'll decide to stay anyway, but I won't. I can't. I can't put my life in the hands of someone who can't-- who won't even make such a simple decision.

So have fun with the bomber and his nails. I hope that's very rewarding for you.