After the breakup

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I keep reliving the first kiss, the moment I tiptoed up to bliss. No worries or fears or regrets existed. The promise of a new romance, the excitement for memories waiting to happen. It was like ecstasy, causing me to giggle every time i thought of you. I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how many wrong turns I took, hurtful words I said, actions I never thought would have a ripple effect strong enough to break your heart, the heart you trusted me with. I always imagined our relationship would follow my typical pattern, you the villain, me the unloved victim. But it was nothing like that, you were the adoring lover, and instead of embracing it I kept trying to find fault with it. I wish I’d been better for you. There’s a piece of your heart you left in my hands that I can’t bear to return. It feels selfish of me to keep it but i need it so I timidly ask that we still be friends after we part. when you answer i wonder if you know it’s missing. If you know i’ll never part with it willingly, and I’ll never ask for the rest of your heart, because I’m scared i’ll just scar it more and more. I hold on to it tighter as we talk more often and ease into this “friendship.” i wonder if the rest of your heart beats normally without it. Then a fear grips my soul, what if you walk away in justified resentment and I lose someone who means so much to me, i clutch at my heart to stop it beating so much and instead of easing my fears i realize there’s a part of my heart missing too…

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