And then there’s this

I know I probably won’t send this to you but I’d like to think that I will and you’re aware of this. Every ounce of care and love that I have, it is dedicated to you. You are the best friend, the best lover, the best listener, the best giver that anyone could’ve asked for. You have your flaws that I sometimes would notice, but I would just find myself accepting it as a part of who you are. I find myself loving it much more. I have days that I am unbearable and I apologise. I too apologise if on some stormy days my facial expressions and body language isn’t on the good side. But I promise you I get better day by day. I am ashamed of myself, of my behaviours towards you that hurt you when your only intentions were nothing but purity. I also want to apologise for the days when God was a little bit too harsh on you. It’ll get better, I promise. I wish to be with you forever, to continue our hardships, our good days, together. But I know deep down we won’t get to. And I don’t like being hurt. I’ve never told you this but I’m hurting myself. Every decisions and every sincere efforts that were made for you were only hurting me. I just want to make you happy. It hurts me more to see you sad, hurt or anything synonymous to it. Everything I said to you were never out of lust nor out of sympathy. I just genuinely felt that about you. And then there’s this.