I want to hate you because that would be easier. To view you as the cold creature you’ve become, to see it as your loss, to realize that maybe I dodged a bullet.
But I can’t do it.
I read these articles entitled “How You Know He Wasn’t the One” or “Why You are Better Off” but none of their evidence rings true. You were romantic. You were sensitive. We weren’t just surface level. I thought we were forever.
What we had was real, or so I thought.
Was it real for you?
Or were you just really good at fooling me?
It is so hard to realize that I will never get these answers. That I will always be left with uncertainty. It isn’t fair. You were always so good with words; why are you silent now?
I have said I am sorry. I have acknowledged your hurt. You don’t have the sheer human decency to reciprocate the favor.
It must be nice to turn off your emotions that easily. Or maybe you were never emotionally invested. Maybe you were just a really good actor. In that case, it appears that I am better off without you.
But I still can’t hate you.
Because I love you.