On one hand, I definitely had a choice. Definitely had a say.

I could have said no. I could have looked away. I could have swallowed, taken a deep breath, and waited for myself to come to my senses, because apparently at one in the morning, they were completely untrustworthy. I could have listed out in my head all the bad things that would have me running at the mere thought of it and repeated them as a mantra.

I had that last shred of sanity before I snapped and lost the fight.

Not that there was much of one to begin with.

I knew I had a choice. I always have a choice, even if it doesn't seem like I do. But I knew I had one, and I knew I could make one.

At the same time, though, I think the choice was made even before. Such a long time ago. Maybe subconsciously, but it had been done before I could form it into words and hold them in my grasp; it slipped away in between my fingertips.

My thoughts weren't very coherent then, and I managed one question before losing it completely and handing myself over from reason and control to the familiar unknown.

The battle was over before it even begun.