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Not a day goes by that the memories of what was and the thought of what could have been are not etched in my mind.

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I could promise you the moon and that wouldn’t be nearly enough of a gesture for how I feel.

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I felt nor fear nor desire. I felt nor sadness nor joy.

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He’s going to tell you that I was too sensitive.
But he isn’t going to tell you that those tears were always over him.

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There is both sorrow for what no longer is and admiration for what was.

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I need him back way more than he needs me.

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I didn’t want to end my life, I wanted a new life.

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I’m sorry for the goodbye he never gave you, that you so very much deserve.

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You are my first. First love, first partner, first loss. I fell in love with you the April of seventh grade. You have taught me that young love is real. You introduced me to the poetry of heartbreak. 

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That’s what I am. Regretful.