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As I piece together this story of us, understand clearly that I acknowledge my many mistakes. And my many, many flaws. I know the part I played in this.
The mistakes I made in judgement, and the mistakes I made in trust. And yes, the mistakes I made in some of my actions.
Yet the conclusion is still the same. You were right. When you said I put you on a pedestal. When you said you didn't deserve it. When you infered that I thought too highly of you. You were right.
It took some time, due to my insistence that you were that person I thought you were. Hoped you were. Wanted you to be. Hoping that it was an outside influence that swayed you. And hoping that I could sway you back.
I was wrong.
This short amount of time has faded the mask I put on you. Washed away the masterpiece I painted on you. Exposed the canvas beneath.
And as I put the final pieces of this story together, with the canvas now exposed, I can finally see the story reveal itself. And I can finally watch as those puzzling questions I had answer themselves.
I'll forget what you look like one day. What you sound like. What you smell like. But this lesson? I will never forget that.
I can put my brushes and paint away now. I can put those masks away.
From now on, I'm keeping the canvases blank.
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