You asked me once
if I would ever write
something about you.
Now I'm a little drunk
(something you've never done)
and it's almost midnight
the perfect time
to say those truths
I never told you.

I guess first, for the sake of honesty,
I'll tell you I felt it too –
that something wasn't quite right
between me and you.
I guess I just didn't want to
admit failure so soon.
(I want you to understand that I know
breaking up was the right thing to do.)

But I can't believe how badly
you handled the situation.
You could have had the decency
to talk to me in person.
(Yet you didn't even have that courage
it was just a pathetic act.
And I truly believe
you can be better than that.)

Did you think I wouldn't notice
how you changed those last few weeks?
You shut me out, when all I wanted
was for you to talk to me.
(The more you pulled away
the more I clung on at every turn.
And I hate that you made me into
that kind of girl.)

It pains me to think that
maybe at the end
drained of energy,
we were both playing pretend.
(Now I don't know if I should be sad
or relieved you didn't know the truth:
that even though I never said it –
did you know that I loved you?)

You broke my heart and left me
to pick up the pieces.
Do you remember how you told me
you never break your promises?
So I wonder if you realize
all those you failed to keep.
I want to know are you hurting
just as much as me?

I guess in the end we felt the same,
but that doesn't lessen the pain.