Hurting

“what hurt the most?”, he asked. Struggling to hold back the tears that were threatening to resurface I replied, “I’m not sure but, maybe it’s the fact that you didn’t hurt as much as I did, You were not the one churning through each of our memories late at night and wondering where it all went wrong, you were not the one crying yourself to sleep at night, you were not the one whose heart was utterly shattered by the simplest actions. Or maybe it’s the fact that I could never bring myself to tell you the real reason why we grew apart, Or the fact that I had to tear my eyes away from that face of yours I would long to see all day long, Or the fact that I lost one of the people who felt like home to me, Maybe I miss the familiarity, The easiness of it all. But what hurt the most is the realization that I will never love someone like I loved you, Yet couldn’t do the most mere of actions when I would’ve given you the world had you asked for it. This goodbye is bittersweet but I hope it is the end because I refuse to toil like this without acknowledgement and there is nothing left in me that you have possibly not taken already. So that is what hurt the most” I ended