I'm done.

I gave up on you.

I gave up on you when you said that I should stop texting you. I deleted your contact information. I deleted all of our conversations. But I still have your phone number memorized. And I hope, against all hope, that you will message me. That for once, you will miss me the way I miss you.

I gave up on you when you said that I should stop thinking about you. I kept myself busy. I tried to brush you off my mind. I looked for distractions. And you left me before even teaching me how to forget you. Not fair if you ask me. Because how can I stop thinking of you when almost everything around me holds a piece of our memory?

I gave up on you when you said that I was already being stupid for still waiting for you. We made a promise. Six years. Have you already forgotten? I am so ready to wait for you, for things to fall into place. But how will I do that when you make it look so obvious to me that I am only waiting in vain?

I gave up on you when you made your choice. You chose her. I saw you one day you know, walking hand in hand with her. And for a second, I closed my eyes and almost felt that it was my hand you're holding, and that I was the reason for your laugh. But reality instantly crashed around me, and I felt an indescribable pain in my chest. I felt some heat flow down my cheek and realized that the pain has escaped from my eyes.

And then I'm done. I gave up. I gave up on you. But in my defense, I have never stopped loving you. Not because I didn't want to, but because I simply can't.