You always blame me. Make me feel like I'm wrong. Every little annoying discussion with you turns into a full-blown argument from scratch. Yesterday when I was waiting for you at the train station you didn't meet me and left me standing there for hours, in the pouring rain. I felt humiliated. I thought you had changed. Remember how to cope? You told me I made you wait before and deserved it—what a horrible feeling.
How can we stay healthy if our relationship is only about revenge? But I don't think you understand it. You keep pushing this "when I make a mistake, it's my fault" narrative. You know I hate it. I'm surprised you still haven't been able to tell that from my behaviour. You complain about going to bed before 2 am. But you never asked why I can't sleep at night. You fall asleep early, don't hear me cry, hoping you won't wake up and be ready for another argument.
You choose to ignore the dark spots under my puffy eyes and instead blame my health. When I wear a new dress, you decide to insult me, saying that I am a greedy boy and don't care about my money. Our discussion has reached a breaking point. Just say, "You remind yourself and know you'll regret it if you don't do it. And you utter the most hurtful jumble of words imaginable. It's inconceivable that you always surprise me, even now.
Do you think the spark of seven years will be dulled in one day? Sparks, that's something you're aware of. Everything we have is so tiny compared to our passion, love and respect for each other over the years. Still, we also had beautiful moments, something beautiful, magical, and extraordinary. Don't you regret those beautiful days? Don't you wish we could go back and start over?
