But I Can't

It's funny how I longed for simplicity, yet the harder I tried, the more complex my life became. "Didn't I tell you?", you said. You said it so loud that I couldn't hear back then. It's not that I didn't want to, I just couldn't hear you. Blame my reckless side. Blame me for everything. Blame me. "Why can't you see things I see?" you asked. I saw but I didn't quite observe them. I didn't understand them. I didn't take them seriously. I just didn't feel them the way you did. You left without saying a word. Or did you? If so, that little note must had been your last goodbye. "Let me go so I can let you go. I love you. But I can't anymore.", that's what you wrote. "But I Can't"... I don't blame you. I never did. Looking at those words make me realize how suffocated we were of each other. You couldn't spell word by word how you wanted me to love you. You were hoping that I could learn it by myself. I did. Just not the way you hoped for. And now that I realize what you realized, it makes me understand how you felt when you told yourself "But I can't".