I’m sorry for not moving on, I’m sorry for not wanting to move on. I’m sorry for sticking to the past, refusing to look forward.
His heart was never truly aligned with mine, and while I know he cared about me, and still does, the way he looked at me would never be more than the admiration of a dear friend.
You made me feel. You hear me even when I do not speak.
I will forgive myself for hoping that one day you’ll see me in another’s eyes, hear me in someone else’s voice, and feel me from another’s touch.
I thought I rescued you from the pit of hate and sadness you were in when she left you, but it turns out, I became a temporary fix that you thought you needed to be better.
But you choose him and I choose you. I was in love with you.
It had been two years since he truly fell for someone. She was definitely different than the others, not that there were many to compare anyway. “She’s perfect,” is all he would say to his friends.
I should’ve known from the start that I would be the only one ruined. Totally, tragically, miserably ruined by you.
I am worth more than your inconsistent attention.
For others, he was a hopeless case, a man with no direction, a lost cause; for me he was everything; he was my hope, my dream, and my future.