We haven't spoken for days. I'm trying to be okay with that.

Through all the nights that I stayed up thinking about what I could have done trying to remember what it could have been, it never not once did it occur to me that maybe it wasn't my fault. Maybe it wasn't either of our faults. I hated you for not telling me what it was but now I get it. Telling me would have broken my heart more than silently disappearing. And maybe secretly yourself didn't quite understand. But it's clear now. It wasn't you. And it wasn't me. It was the time, and it was the people we surrounded ourselves with. Not everything meshes perfectly. Maybe we did, but they didn't and at the time it was a package deal. So I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't be sorry for anything. And I'm sorry you can't be either. Because it would all be so much simpler to hate you. And it would be easier. But it's not alle so black and white. And I'm okay with that. I guess this is what they call closure. Our sad tale is finally at an end. And while it may not be the happily ever after that most girls dream of, I'm content with it. Because this means it's not the end of me.