I don’t think there’s anyone who understands my hunger for it.
It makes me sad when you say you’re living to wait for the very second you die
The moment I heard your voice on the other line, I broke down.
I changed my number hoping you would never call me. I heard the sadness in your voice, the sense of regret in losing me. I’m sorry, your friends were wrong about seeing you while I was in the same city. It was never my intention so why should they worry. I was hoping you would pretend like you never knew me and carry on with your life.
I’m still traumatized, which explains my nightmares, anxiety attacks, and hyperventilating. And I’ve worked up the courage to forgive you for myself and your mother.
I’ve let go. A long time ago. But I can never forget the feelings, words, and events on that specific day.
I’m terribly weak and incredibly strong.