You said, "Always" and yet it wasn't. You said you love me, but it felt like you didn't.
Was any of it real? I can't help but doubt, because of all the lies you said and the hurtful things you did. Yet, I loved you, despite all the pretense and the pain, and my somewhat clouded and semi-biased judgement. Even when you believed I didn't care. Sometimes, it makes me think, that's what you'd rather believe in. And it hurts. Deep.
Remember when I asked you, "How would you understand my silence, when you seldom let me speak, and won't even listen to the words I said?" Even then, I was trying to reach out to you, but couldn't. There was far too much hurt and distance in between. And I couldn't change anything. I was always the antagonist. Even when in the end, I'm the one who's left wounded and withdrawn farthest.
And I thought you promised to listen. You promised to be true. Why weren't you? I only wanted to have you believe me, but it felt like I've always needed to explain and prove myself. I don't need to, but I did. I never wanted doubt and dishonesty between us. Yet it was there, eating away what's left, until we crumbled to ashes.
Did anyone believe me? Did anyone cared I was hurt? I thought you did. I really thought you did. And yet, out of all the things that tore me to the core, the one that hurts me most was it came from you. We were supposed to be together in this, yet it felt like I was alone.
Everyone said I was destroying you, and yet no one knew you did that to me long before. And much, much worse. And it kills me that I still cared a lot, despite it all.
Did I really destroy you? Did you ever think I had been untrue? Did you think I wanted you to feel this pain as I do? Because I don't. I still don't.
Or maybe, I should be asking, did you really love me, even just a tiny bit, as I loved you?
