I still think about you, even though I can't even begin to understand why. I almost hate the fact that I do. You were so perfectly imperfect, in the beginning. But slowly I began to understand, what kind of man that you are and how blind love can be. I'm forever grateful that I have two eyes to see that the mistake of loving you would have lead to another, and another. I am too important to be undervalued and depreciated. I am too intelligent to allow myself to waste with you rather than flourishing with another. Despite the fact that you still manage to enter my thoughts, I could never give you another chance. Love you, never.
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