Bret

I wish I could tell you all the things that swim in my mind when I think of you.
I would tell you how much I hate you because what you did was wrong, and you knew it was, but you did it anyway. The way things changed so drastically between us should've been my first hint that things were going to end poorly, but I cast it aside. I had done nothing wrong. I didn't text you all day long, didn't pester to see you all the time, didn't think twice when you wouldn't kiss me when I left in the morning, and never questioned why you blew off our plans more than once. My heart broke every time you made me feel like I was less than worthy of being with you. And it still does.
I would tell you how unfair to me you were. I still can't believe you let me sit there waiting for a response from you. I waited 4 days and it all went unanswered: the texts, the calls. For all I had known you died that weekend, and in my eyes you did. You became dead to me. And the fact that you have the nerve to speak to me a month after the ordeal with an apology explaining that I'm 'a beautiful person' and you're 'sorry [you] weren't ready for us.' I don't need an apology, what I needed was an explanation a month ago, not now.
I would tell you that I think about you more often than I should. Because you cross my mind more than once a day, usually with me wondering what you're doing or how you are or where we would be at if we were still together. It's impossible for me to shake what it was like when it first began because it was exactly what I had imagined it to be. And more. Your friends accepted me instantly and we walked around the course with your dog like we were our own little family and it all fit seemingly perfect together.
And I would tell you that if I was given the chance to make you pay for all that you did to me, I wouldn't. I'm not capable of being spiteful, or vengeful, or holding a grudge. I instead choose to hold my head high and stay strong because I'm too good for that. Just like I'm too good for you.