Looking Back

I don't really know what you mean, but in a way I do. I think I know what you're referring to. I think it's me. But I'm always thinking it's me and I don't trust myself to be correct. But I think it's me. I know I hurt you. By hurting you I hurt myself, but it took me a while to figure that out. I'm a better person now, I've grown. I never meant to hurt you, as hard as it might be to believe, it was the last thing I wanted to do. I don't know what goes on in my head sometimes. But deep down I never wanted to hurt you. I think it just scared me, because I was finally admitting to myself how I felt about you, after hiding it away for so long. I still have every conversation saved, even the ones in french. I can't bring myself to read them though, because of the way I hurt you following them. Maybe I'll read them again one day, and remember everything that happened. After a while you said it didn't matter, not to regret it but I still did. I thought I might get a second chance, for us, but you didn't want it. I've said it before but I still don't quite understand why. I think you once said you'd tell me but you never did. I'm not sure if I want to know. But in case you were wondering. I still feel that way. It was always you. I think it might always be you. And so you know, for future reference, unless you tell me otherwise, it's never off the table. I can't stop looking back and wondering what if. Pointless as it may be. I blew so much when I did what I did, and I didn't see it at the time. I blew something that probably would have been amazing. I want that back. I can't help wanting it back. I want it back more than anything I've ever wanted. I'm not really sure why I'm saying all this. Perhaps I think it might trigger, oh, no I'm just thinking out loud. I'll stop now.