I have to be honest. Its my imperative. I can't sit here and tell you that I dont still think about you. I do.

Sometimes, I write letters to you. I tell you things about my day and how I'm still struggling to like myself, ever so slightly. How I just want to hear how your doing, where ever you are, and how much I'm sorry

for being this way. In the end, I dont ever send them. I know I shouldn't. I know none of anything I have to say necessarily matters to you. Thats not your fault. I dont blame you for not caring. I wouldn't want to know me either.