Everything is just an illusion to me. Up until now, I still can’t believe you exist. Why does someone like you come through, come through like I thought you would? If you knew how it feels to be at the losing end, at the one-sided end of this entire thing, how would you feel?
Would you pity me, tell me you liked me when in fact you never did and you never will? Did you ever get to revel in pain, in this constricting, tension-filled pain where in the end it leaves my whole in pieces? And yet, and yet, you exist.
Were we always meant to carry with us a battle scar, a scar that reminded us that we fought a long hard battle, and though time heals everything, the wounds of loving one will never fade away.