Nothing.

I have to write this.

Do you remember when you cried and said you didn't deserve me?
Do you remember when you told me you would never leave?
Do you remember when you told me I could always come back?
Do you remember when you said you hoped I was making the right choice, when I left?
Do you remember the countless times you guilted me into staying?
Do you remember when you grabbed my coat and said you did it because you didn't want to lose me?
Do you remember when you yelled at me and called me childish for not picking up the phone?
Do you remember all of it, like I remember it?

Was it rolling through your mind when you left me outside in the rain?
Were the memories of everything that happened with you when you hung up on me, as I begged you not to?
And when you did it a second time?
When you blocked my phone number and ran away from me when you saw me?
When I begged you just to talk to me?
What were you thinking? What were you doing?
Where were you and how did you feel when I lay on my couch and stared, and cried, and sobbed?
Where were you when I felt worthless and abandoned?
When I felt lied to, and led on, and deserted?

I wish that you had talked to me. I wish that it could have been on different terms; I wish that it could have been on my terms.

I wish that I didn't feel so full of hate, and I wish this sorry piece of writing weren't so biased.

But I am, and it is, and it's too late to do anything different now.

IhysfmfdwIshdbiD. Ydi.