It’s hard, but I have to understand that I am not yours and you aren’t mine. I have to let you go slowly so you can decide for yourself if I’m really the one for you.
I know for a fact that I should focus on loving myself too. After all, once this has passed, I have no one but myself to celebrate this triumph. Something we could both laugh at if we do become friends still.
At the moment, I’m scared that you will leave me. I have never found someone who adores me the way you do. Every hour, minute, second. It drags me. It hurts. I’m sorry. The pain slowly grabs me by the feet and drags me, as I helplessly oblige, to the abyss of loving you — loving what could be.
I’m sorry that me — the next person you dated, has hurt you again.