I love you, I really do.
I hurt you because I can’t hurt anyone else. I can’t push anyone else away because they won’t keep trying to stay the way you do.
I don’t really feel anything, right now. It’s hard for me to visualize you as a person, to remember why I fell in love with you. 2,000 miles has put a lot more than just distance between us.
I’ve been trying lately to remember. To just sit down and picture your face in my head. To listen to music that reminds me of you. And sometimes it works–sometimes I can feel your arms around me again, and recall what it’s like to stroke your hair as you drive. I smile at the thought of your dimples and your uncontrollable laughter, how your whole body shakes unashamedly and you rub your head as if it’s so funny it hurts. I can picture the tears in your eyes when I left that day, the way you buried your face in my neck and broke down.
But that’s when it starts hurting again, and it’s too hard for me to take my scratchy throat and the sight of my swollen eyes when I wake up in the morning after a long night of crying.
And so I push you, and I injure you some more. Because I can, because nothing feels real, because you refuse to leave my side. And I’m sorry, that I can’t say sorry, that I can’t change, that I keep doing this to you. It isn’t you I’m angry at, and it’s never been you who deserves this side of me.
Maybe soon, the apathy will fade. Maybe I’ll come back to myself again. Maybe I will stop taking my emotions out on other people, and maybe you and I will be okay.
But I can’t promise you, once and for all, and for that…
I am truly sorry.