I'm glad you're happy.
There are things I never said and now I can't. The main thing is, really, that every time you said "I'm hoping I stop being attracted to you" or "I'm getting closer to not wanting you" was like a knife in my stomach. You expect to be over me completely by the summer. At least that's what you "hope".
I understand, obviously, why you want that. But you don't have to tell me all the time. You don't have to remind me that you just can't wait until you don't want me anymore. You just can't wait, can't you?
I think about it a lot... How our lips fit together, how our tongues tasted on each other's mouths, how your body melted into mine as we fit like we were created to touch each other. Regardless of any feelings I have for you, that might never change—how our bodies just naturally stimulate and caress one another. How we know each other's wants and needs inside and out and can easily fulfil them. How we make each other squirm with pleasure.
The fact that you can't wait until all of that has disappeared is disheartening, and it stings. I wonder if it's true that you really want all of that to vanish into thin air. It's such a marvel how we can do that to each other. I will always cherish it.
