Regret

And it's true that we never really knew each other.
I told you my secret and what do I have to show for it?
Nothing.
You don't know me because you won't let me tell you.
You won't let me be honest with you.
And I don't know you because, what?
You're "afraid of hurting me"?
As long as I live, I'll never understand you.
I. . .
I never should have told you a single damn thing.
I regret it.
I regret all of it.

 But I'll always miss you, my darling.