I fucking hate the way you left, and I hate that I let myself feel guilty for the way I let you go. Because it was your choice, wasn't it? If you wanted me, you should have told me, and not in a whisper over a pillow at 4 am, and not in convoluted questions that left me feeling like I got all my answers wrong. You should have grabbed me and kissed me and told me you would never let me go because that was all I was waiting for. All this time I could never understand my feelings for you. Now I finally know. We never meant anything and we never will.