THERE was a great burning terror in your eyes the night we finally split. It had been coming for a few weeks at that point. I finally came to my senses and was made fully aware of what you'd done with me. I operated logically, knowing what the last 16 months had felt like, and yet, I still felt it hard to shake the emotional feeling that lingered. The love for the sparkle in your eyes, the way the sun reflects off each individual strand of your hair, the way the world comes alive every time you smile. You were practically on your knees begging me to stay; for once, it was time to do what was best for myself and everyone else.
REALLY, I didn't know how to feel, or how to approach it. I'd promised myself, and you, time and time again, that the moment that had came that day would never come. But those sweet words mean nothing when it finally does happen. I had always known it was inevitable; we were truly incompatible in every sense. We actively worsened one another, day in and day out. In some sense, it still hurt me, the feeling of having lied to you, and therefore having hurt you. At the end of the day, you hurt me a hell of a lot more than a few empty promises.
BUT I did know that in due time, you'd find that this was the way things were supposed to be. You would grow immensely from this, or at least you hopefully would. In retrospect, I'm not totally sure you did. From my perspective, the small things I've heard in the time since, it seems like you simply looked for someone new. Like you went shopping for yet another worn down house, promising to rebuild, yet inevitably aiding its inhabitants in destroying what was left of it.
ALL I know is that we will never be us again. Thanks for the good times, or whatever. There weren't many of them anyway.