I tell myself I made the right decision, I know how I feel about you, I’m better without you, and I can forget you if I try hard enough. Every time you’ve come back, I’ve opened the door, probably giving you hope, but then I slammed it in your face again.
The mystery is in why I treat you horribly. If there is anything you deserve to hear, it’s that I’m so sorry.
For the past two years I compare everyone to you, I avoid things that remind me of you, and I convince myself that I never want to see you again. For the past two years I’ve been looking for you in crowds, and I’ve thought of you almost every day. I feel like I’m running away, constantly from you, and I realize that a part of me still isn’t healed. It opens up frequently, and it never shuts for good.
I thought I’d let you know, because I’m a complicated person who feels deeply and recklessly.