This is more of a rehearsal of something so I don’t go insane, also to read how it sounds outside of my mind.
I’m sorry, I know you want us to get back to good terms. The things you said to me before, totally broke me, shattered who I was.
I know you want to be friends again, I do and I don’t. I simply do, but still care more about you. The harder answer is I don’t, since the very first conversation since we stopped talking, I knew I would regret and have since, every added conversation since then, also regretted, totally. I love them, but it kills me inside each time.
It has taken months to fix what was once broken, you took a single conversation to break it down.
You want to be friends, I do too, I really do, but I can’t, I truly can’t. As it’s torture; all the times I’m around you, and all those times I’m not.