I’m sick of writing about you. 

I’m angry that the only words I can write down have something to do with you, or make me think back to us. I wish I could finally be responsible for my own actions, and stop blaming you for things that were most definitely my doing. I’m sorry I wasn’t the right person, or I was there for you at the wrong time, or in the wrong way. I want to regret everything I ever did, but I can’t help but look back at the good times we had, the smiles, the words, the feelings. I never want to forget those.

But now, just, please, get out of my head, leave my words, let me let go, if just for a whie. 

I just want to make something out of this nothingness.