I am sorry for not defending you.

People often tell you that you're either being too much or giving too little of yourself and I actually started to believe their words too. Whenever they tell you to shut up and make you feel selfish for choosing to speak your mind, I always tell you to hold back whatever thought you have at the back of your mind. I have spent too much time trying to please them without realizing that you were gradually losing pieces of yourself in the process.

I am sorry for torturing you mentally.

You have been so used to pain and unhappy endings so when something good finally happens, I always try to make you remember that everything has an expiration date, even hope. I always force you to jump to a conclusion instead of just letting you do things freely while hoping that they will not end up as bad as you think they would.

I am sorry for not saving you.

I was aware when the demons under your bed slowly crawling in your head but I didn't do anything about it. I saw the shadows that follow you everywhere but I didn't even try to drive them away. I witnessed how you've gone through the worst days of your life, I know how it felt when you slowly being swallowed by the black hole that has been lurking inside every part of you, but I didn't stop it either.

I am sorry for not checking up on you every now and then.

I taught you to bottle up everything inside because things will be easier that way. I made you think that by opening up yourself up, people will only result in getting them hurt and I know you wouldn't want that to happen. I always tell you should never let people see how fragile you are because I can't accept the fact that you are no longer whole, that you are probably more broken then everyone else, I forced you into believing that you could pull yourself together because you need to be strong.

I am sorry for not loving you enough.

I sometimes hate you for being you. There have been many attempts to escape, I was sitting with you in the middle of the night when you cried your heart out with your left hand over your mouth and the right one on your chest. I never told you this but I'm proud of you for making it this far. If only I learned how to choose you first whenever I have the chance to do so, I would've loved you more then the way I do right now.