Fault

You made me believe it was my fault.

We were walking, and I had been thinking about it a lot, but I could never tell you. I was truly terrified, knowing that you wouldn’t understand. But suddenly, I remembered everyone’s voices telling me that you were involved, so I gathered all my strength, turned to you, and asked for a yes. You didn't offer a solution. You just didn’t want it.

Later, I walked away, ignored you, analyzed you, and talked with everyone but you. I already knew it was the end, but still, you wanted to make it seem like a mistake, I guess it would be easier that way. 

I wanted to tell you I was all in, but you wouldn’t listen. So, I just sat there, hearing how you broke me. Finding the end was inevitable, but searching for the outset and condemning me for being there became brute.

 It’s okay, no regrets, I just said.