It's over.

This long, bitter, poison between us is over and we can be at peace.

You finally said those bittersweet words. If the situation was different, I might've even cried, but I didn't. I'm glad it's over.

We're still friends and I hope we'll both find joy in that. Perhaps when you're ready, you can learn to love again. But not love me.

I was already thinking how we would end it, how I would say that we should just be friends but all the situations were wrong. I haven't been feeling well either and you have made no moves of sympathy to show that you care. Your selfishness is something I will no longer care for. I have no rights to you, no authority to tell you how you should act in a situation anymore. And I'm happy about this.

If only you showed me you cared for my wellbeing. At least somehow I managed to convince you to come with me when I left the school this morning to recover. Would you have disagreed if you hadn't planned to end it?

My condition is very slowly getting better. All this stress had caused me to forget about myself and I'm paying the price. But it's alright now. Even if I'm alone in this fight, I don't need you to feel sorry for me. I don't need you. I have people who truly care about me even if they live further away than me, but even with the distance, they're closer to me than you ever were.