I feel like you led me on. But I don’t think you did.
I feel sick to my stomach. But I still don’t blame you.
I wish I could just be angry. But all I can feel is pain and loneliness and missing you so strongly it’s like dying from the inside out.
We still talk. But it’s not the same. Because what we had, what we should have, lingers behind every word.
We never had a chance.
We never stood a chance.