I haven't cleared you from my room. my life. I wake up and I hold the gifts you've given me. your pictures still on my wall, your name at the tip of my tounge.

I don't expect anymore. i barely wait.

i don't want to think of how i've hurt you. I've been so absorbed in my own pain and your own apparent apathy (defense, i know) that i didn't stop to think. To think how angry you might be. How so much of this is my fault.

I was ridiculous to think you could forgive me all my mistakes.

I'm sorry. so sorry.