You4: The words you will never read

I miss you. 
I will always love you. 
I wish we could be close again. 
But I know it's not possible. 
At least I don't think it is.
I wish I could carry on blaming myself. 
But no.
I refuse to. 
You are a selfish, hurtful person. 
You hurt me in the little things you did. 
In the expectation that the world revolves around you and what you want.  
What you do is unbelievable. 
What's worse is that everyone lets you. 
Everyone lets you walk all over them.
Simply because you are pretty charming.
You play the damsel in distress quite well, I should applaud you.
You pry on the innocent souls who don't know that your bite cuts so deep, it leaves scars.

I could write all day about the things that you are. 

I once fooled myself into thinking that maybe I was jealous of your outward appearance, diminishing my own. 
But I realised that its nothing. 
If that's all you will ever have. 
Then ill take my warts, moles and be content. 
All my life I have believed that if I could be just like you and others. 
Walking around attracting bees to what is eventually poisonous honey. 
Then that would be it. 
I would be satisfied. Happy. 

I know most of that thinking came from my own insecurities. 
Which funnily enough. 
You were the one person that helped me get over them. 
Or at least take a step to.
 I remember the days I would hear what a horrid person you are. 
But no. 
I had to experience it for myself. 
I had to believe that there was more to you than those rumours about a girl who back then, with one stern look, would bring even the strongest of fighters down to the ground. 
We both changed each other when we got to know one another. 
You learnt to smile. That's one thing I can take credit for I guess.

But your unwillingness to be the one that asks for forgiveness amazes me. 
When you know you are in the wrong... 
You seem to refuse to acknowledge it. 

You say you don't have a lot of close friends, like myself. 
Yet you never make effort. 
You never make effort. 
You never make effort. 
With me.
Or people like me. 
I don't know which.
I always felt like you had more time to make effort with others except me.
If you did have time for me, it was always really about you.
Or when money is involved.
When it came to me, there was never time.
I moved away. 
Yet to this day.
You have never set foot anywhere near.
I wanted to say this to you and you only.
But the problem is I have been waiting for some sort of sympathy or apology or acknowledgement that you hurt me, from you for so long. 
I feel like everyone else but you should at least know how you made me feel. 
How you make me feel. 

Yet besides all this. 
If you say the word.
I will jump.  
Why am I like this. 
Why do I still care. 
Why do I still want to be used by you. 
Because that's your speciality. 
Using people. 
I know I live in the past a lot.
That's my issue. 
I wish I could know for sure that you at least know what you did. 
Do you ? 
Do you? 
DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID ?