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I knew I wasn't dealing with it. I wasn't "going through the stages" or whatever the hell they call it. You left, I was hurt, big deaaaal. Maybe the pain was a good thing. Maybe I deserved this. Maybe it was my fucking fault. Or, maybe I was just trying to justify why you left.... I wasn't what you wanted, she was prettier, you had a mental breakdown or a 1/4 life crisis. That's what I thought at 3 in the morning after crying so hard I couldn't breathe, tossing around the questions that constantly plagued me. That there was so justifiable reason as to why you rip my world apart and shatter my heart. I may never understand why. Maybe I don't want to know why you did what you did. But, you see, that's what keeps me up at night. That's what distracts me at work. What keeps me standing in the shower till the water runs ice cold. WHY? I tried my best, did everything I was supposed to, and was there for you no matter what. I felt like you were the one for me... still feel like that. Maybe we'll meet again later in life, and somehow it'll be the right time. Maybe I'll never hear from you again and just be stuck with haunting fucking memories. Part of me will always love you, part of me wishes I could forget you....
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