#74

Maybe you deserve to know that you hurt me more than anyone ever had. That I was too proud to admit it and I wasn't brave enough to let you know. Because I was afraid it wouldn't mean a thing to you. 

But two years is long enough to repair a weak heart. No, two years is more than enough. Two years. Your worth to me, in number of years. In number of years that we're no longer together. But we're never together. 

Was I even worth one month? 

I shouldn't ask. And you shouldn't think about it.

The last time we saw each other, I felt disrespected. If you need to ask why, then clearly you never really did consider how or what I felt.

It's okay. And I mean it.

The last time we saw each other, I realised I couldn't love you anymore. I didn't love you anymore. 

I told myself it's okay. And I felt it.