Ok...
So...

We're not talking,

because you lashed out at me

...again.

And I've learned something...

...I think.

I've learned

that it doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter how many times I say sorry,
or what I say sorry for,
or when I say it
or how I say it
because you're always going to be resentful,
and angry at me,
secretly maybe even at yourself,
wondering why I chose him
and not you,
and what you did wrong.

You didn't do anything.

Except refuse to get on with life.

You can get a new girlfriend,

and go out dating

and drinking

and dancing.

But you will never be able to just get on with me, until you can look me in the eye and understand that I couldn't string you along and pretend to be in love with you,

not when I was

when I am

in love with someone else.

Until you understand that, and until you can see me, and not the she-devil who ruined everything, you will never be able to

just

be.