Dear You,

With the oceanic eyes and the smooth skin, I want to tell you so much, but I have very little to say to you.
What can one say to a person like you? What can a person say to the someone who made them feel like the world just to drop them like a forgotten toy?
I suppose I could tell you that I miss you, but wouldn't that be a lie? Wouldn't it be a lie to say I miss you when you aren't even the person I knew anymore?
I suppose I could say that I hate you, but that's a lie too. It's a lie because I don't. How could I? You haven't done anything, and I guess that's the worst you could have done. You left me without a reason to hate you, so I don't. I don't so I can't get over this.
I could scream in your face and tell you all the things I wish you would say, but what purpose would that serve? You'd laugh at my words, at my desperation.
There are a million dirty looks I could plaster on my face, but what's the point when you'd always have one to match?
I can blame you. This is your fault, isn't it? I'm perfectly aware that I've never done anything wrongful to you. I never hurt you. I never denied you something that you deserved. I never once told you a lie. So how could you do this to me? I made sure everything was perfect this time. I analyzed every move. It is very much your fault, but I blame myself. There must have been something different that I could have done.
I could ask you thousands of questions, but for what? So you can lie to me again?
But I really want to know a few things:
Don't you miss me? Even a little bit? When you see me every day and look me right in the eye? Can you see my heart stop beating and my breathing become frantic and unmeasured? Do you miss me when I'm on the phone or when I'm laughing my fake laugh? Do you miss me when I walk by you and your lips twitch with the urge to say something, anything? Do you?