I realised that I didn’t know you at all. I couldn’t see past the mirage I cast of the person I thought you were. You broke me before I managed to pull myself together from the last time. And I miss you still, maybe that’s the only truthful thing I will ever admit to you.
I didn’t think that it would be this difficult for me to let you go. I suppose I got what I wanted now that I don’t actually want it anymore. I miss you. I really fucking miss you. And you hate me and you won’t tell me why. There are less than fifty days for me to figure it out before you are gone and I don’t even know where to begin. I’m telling myself that I am running out of time but I think you had already left me behind before I even realised the race had started.
I quit this fucking game that I’m not sure either of us know the rules to anymore.
This whole time I was so worried that we wouldn’t have long enough, that I didn’t notice you start the timer until the alarm sounded, and you had already decided you didn’t want me.
I am so angry at myself because I miss you and I don’t want to let go of you. I think the end of this is like that time I hit my hand and it didn’t hurt at all the first day but after I couldn’t move it without screaming from the pain. Maybe I was numb to it when you fucked me over and I thought I was okay without you but now I can’t even hear your voice without wanting to beg you to take it back. I’m scared that this and you will always be a part of me like how my hand still makes a clicking noise when I flex my fingers.
You broke my heart before I even realised I had given it to you.