I ask myself this question every morning, right when I wake up and the pain sets in for the day. Why did I choose to give my heart to you? Why did I let you in and expect anything different? When I said yes to being yours, I expected to never be hurt by you. You are a good person, that I know. I, to this day, do not understand why this happened to us.
I gave you my heart: you held it in your hands. You alone were the one who ended up crushing it, not protecting it from harm and led it to its death. As much as I resent you for what you did, I cannot hate you. Hate and resentment are two different things, and I can do anything but hate you.
How does that work? How can you not hate the one who broke you?
Why? Why did this happen? I am still searching for the answers in this world.
I write these in hopes that you will see them. In hopes that you will come back, although I know you won’t.
So here it is:
please come back.