I was always intrigued by unhappy endings in love stories.

It captivated me.Tantalized.


I didn't want it for myself though.

I HATE YOU!

I hate you for everything you did to me.

I hate you for being so shameless.

I fucking hate you.

I'm erasing you. Slowly and gradually I'm sure I will completely write you off.
I get stuck on whether I should forgive you or not.
If I don't..a part of you will always remain with me. If I do , it would mean letting you and all the baggage along with it  - go. Just let go ..fade away with layers of dust.So that I would never be able to withdraw the envelopes.
 That would be a good thing to do..but then I wonder why is it not coming easy to forgive you ?

I've reached a point where I don't demand answers. I guess there is nothing to answer.
And that is changing things.. that is to say even when I am hurting every time I think of all this..I hardly cry. I hardly yell inside.
Not wanting to know anything anymore has turned into a mechanism of its own kind - leaving me bittersweet , yet helping me pull along , pushing me to give up and move on.

It will always be a sad end for me. I took chances.So maybe there is nothing to regret. I didn't want to believe you were bad because that is the extent to which I liked you.
Just liked you , a lot lot , but only liked.
Nothing more. Nothing less.

Wish you'd known that and having known that , had some respect for our relation.

I could only wish. Its that sad.