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When I think back, I realise that we were wrong for each other from the beginning.

You thought you were ready.

I was using you as escape from my reality that I couldn't face.

You offered the alternative.

Maybe I forced you to...?

But you couldn't deliver what you promised.

You overestimated how much you could give.

I saw the signs. That we weren't suitable for each other.

But I clung on despite everything.

Because what you offered, what you stood for, the bright and shiny future you painted gave me hope.

We started the relationship for wrong reasons.

It was not sustainable.

It was not meant to be.

You couldn't give me what I wanted.

I needed more than what you were willing to offer.

I needed so much more.

But I still stayed with you.

Because I believed I loved you.

Despite everything that I'm saying now, that I'm saying here, I think I still love you.

I don't know why I love you, and I will never forget the words you said to me, "I like you... But..."

Those words broke my heart.

The more I clung to you the further you drifted away.

When you finally ended it I was relieved.

I didn't realise how much the relationship was eating at me.

I was sad, I still loved you, but I was relieved.

And when I began to accept that you were gone, that we were done, as always, I put myself on the track to moving on.

Because that is the only way that I can save myself from my own despair, my own self-indulgence.

So why did you contact me?

I was getting on fine without you.

Why did you have to look for me?

To fulfil your own selfish desire to get your feelings off your chest?

And after you dropped your bomb on me you disappeared.

Like a memory that crept up, out of nowhere.

With no future, because it is set in the past.

And I have to start over all over again.