Final moments, not really

I'll be honest, I'm not upset that you left. The life you have is no one elses but your own and I would never even think of stopping you. I'm torn over this; how could you leave without at least saying goodbye? Nothing cordial, nothing at all, to be frank.

If I had the chance I'd do some things differently. And I'm deeply sorry for hurting you in the slightest bit. Really, I am. There was so much I had to tell you, so much I had to show you as well. Unfortunately I don't know how you feel now, or if you care about me as much as you did. I'd like to, though. God, what I'm trying to say is you fucking have me. All of me. Since day one, and it's driving me insane.

There's a fifty percent chance you'll read this, and there's another fifty percent that says you won't. I'm holding out on the half that says you will. But I can never be sure with you, and I miss that.