I just remembered something. It's very important. I don't know why, but I just feel that it is and I have to put it down.
I remember you were jealous because I was writing with her, and I told you, in a fit of impulsive fear, that I knew the feeling, but it was different for me. And you asked why, and I think I accused you of loving her more than me. The issue is that I can't remember the words exactly--but I remember what you said to me. "really? is that what you think of me?"
That should have been a warning to me then. No wonder I was so reluctant to tell you how hurt you made me since. No wonder.