It hurts. It hurts so much knowing that I killed someone, someone who was a part of me; and even though, at the time, I thought everything would pass by, that life would go on just how it was before, that it would happen once and then never be remembered again, but its not like that.
Things changed, some things were better and some were worse, but it eats me up inside, every single day.
And even though I know that it was the best thing to do, and that there really was no other sensible option, it hurts.
I just need to talk about it, but of course its the only thing I cant talk about; the things that conversations sweep around, occasionally hitting; and I always look at you, trying to read you, trying to figure out if it still hurts you, too. I dont want it to.
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