What happened, then? Why did we say goodbye? Why did we think we hated each other? A thousand stories won’t make up for the damage I never thought I did. I must have hurt you. You must have been sad. I walked out on you, and I couldn’t care less. However, you have no memories of the pain you caused. You think it’s all my fault.
Don’t you know hearts never look away when love is steadfast?
If you ask me, I was never sure. Maybe my conscious self did not know it, but that part of me which led me to follow that mysterious stranger… that part knew I hesitated. That part knew this was more of an obsession than it had been love.
I guess I’m sorry. But stop looking all tough! We’ll never clean our minds from this black resentment if you run away, screaming there’s no way back— that’s the last thing I need to know! I’m well aware that I can’t step back into your arms, that there’s no way in hell I’m stepping back… I just feel I never had a chance to let go of my rage. You don’t remember anything but your own pain.
You never knew. You may never know. You don’t want to know. And as far as I’m concerned, I may as well leave you with the uncertainty.
After all, it was I who stepped away so blatantly, right?