Extinguished

"If you dare, come a little closer."

I can promise you, if you become my friend, if you crave my love, if you desire my company, you will be let down. You will be hurt. It isn't a possibility, but an assurance. You silly little fools. Every single one of you. There are only two people I would never dream of hurting, at least not intentionally. I want only their happiness. Theirs is mine. I love them both, but I've hurt one. I've burned him. He can't forget the feeling and I can't forget the look on his face. I may not be in love with him, but I will always love him. And I hate his pain. Especially if I am the cause. I'm sorry. Maybe we could've worked this out in different circumstances. Or maybe not. Maybe we're fated to eternities of regret, what-ifs, silent apologies, emotional scars, and lost kisses. If that's the case, I am sad for us. I really am. No one feels the regret stronger than I. Except, perhaps, you. But your silence is deafening.