There wasn’t yelling. There wasn’t fighting. There wasn’t “fuck you” and “I never loved you” and “I’m not going to miss you.”
There were two tired hearts. Still beating, but no longer in sync. Four eyes that never seemed to meet at the same time. Twenty fingers that no longer entwined. Two pairs of lips that hadn’t met in months.
So we said goodbye. We said we’d keep in touch. We said “good luck,” and we meant it. And it hit me:
I spent so long being mad at you, that I forgot you were human, too. That we were both flawed. That I loved you, I loved you, I loved you.
I still do.
“i’m sorry for not realizing you were doing your best”
