Minus one.

I wonder why it is so hard for me to feel pity for you. Perhaps you've lost my trust. Your pain is all a big show to me now, each line on your face is fake. I try to figure out what you want to get with your attempt at deception. I take a deep breath to contain my annoyance whenever you cry. I cannot trust a liar.

Perhaps I am just not forgetful. What you feel is a tiny, tiny fraction of what I felt once, and you did not care at all then. I am not trying to make you feel what you made me, I don't want to be as bad as you are. But neither can I want to make you feel better. You haven't been who you should be in my life, you haven't even tried. Back then, you made it clear right at my face that you haven't even wanted to. I cannot care for someone who should be the one giving a damn in the first place.

Maybe, and maybe I'm getting it right this time, this is all because you are making yourself a dead man to me. You are giving my life away for a shallow, petty relationship. But what can I expect from you, you already did that once for your few minutes of comfort. I don't know what happened to you, you used to be in my life. I cannot feel for someone who refuses to exist.