A letter to love

I don't know if I should call you love anymore. But you will always be my baby.

Well baby, here's the thing. You never said you were sorry. Baby, I can't possibly come back crawling to you. Baby, I got pride. You treated me like some kind of spring. No matter how heavy how frequent the pressure, the beating is, I'll come back straight again. No, I am not that elastic. In fact, I am pretty fragile. You can stitch me right back up, though I wont be the same but I'll try to serve you the same, even better so that you will promise not to break me again.

Baby, you are so alone. You were and you are. Always will be. I tried to fixed you, and you were better. But only for a moment.
How can I say I need you when I am so much better without you? How can I say I'm sorry when I have done nothing wrong? Baby, if I could write everything about you, it would be a blank page. Because that is all there is about you. Blank. Emptiness. Loneliness.