I wish I could tell you.

I wish I could tell you how I needed the same things. How it sucks that you did what you did, and even said what you said. I wish I could tell you how shitty it is that you get to say you still want this, but need space, while I’m possibly the most hurt I’ve ever been. I wish I could tell you how many times I could’ve done that to you, but couldn’t. Still can’t even in hindsight. I wish I could tell you even though I’m a man and I am somewhat stoic and passive, that I wish you would fight for me, instead of acting like it never happened. I wish I could tell you that your need for things, and acceptance, and fleeting momentary pleasures will be your greatest source of unhappiness. There a lot of things I wish I could do or say right now and before. But I am this person, I am who I am in this, not just for me, but mostly for you. Because you need me to be. I wish you could see that.