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"It's not you, it's me"

Words I've said so many times before. If not out loud, at least inside my own head. Sometimes angry, sometimes sad and sometimes just plain wistful. But I never lied.

The first time was probably the worst. I don't really remember. But I know it only got easier with every new smile, every new kiss and every new boyfriend.

Once again, I'm the one who is leaving.

But I'm only leaving because you won't ask me to stay. Not even once. In fact, you hold the door open for me, guilty eyes and apologetic smirk perfectly in place. I stall, and pretend to forget that I ever intended to leave.

"It's not me, it's you", I want to scream. I want to stand right there and refuse to move until you accept that it's your fault that I'm leaving. Until you beg me to stay. Until you stop looking at me with sad, regretful, old eyes and make me feel like I'm the one who is running away.

Instead, you say nothing.

And I do nothing.

You wait at that open door, with a quietly controlled puzzled look on your face. One that I know you'll never allow to break into a question.

And I pretend to remember what I pretended to forget.

Yeah, I'm still the one who is leaving. Angrily, sadly and wistfully. Again. So I guess, after all, It's not you, it's me.

Just like always.

Only so so much harder.

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