That I'm not ok, but miserable and lonely and feeling like I've been placed inside a deep, big, black hole from which there is no escaping.

That the only reason I haven't gone insane yet is because there's so much work to focus on.

That every morning the first thing I do is check my email to see if you've written; if, by some miracle, you've changed your mind. Which is remarkably silly seeing that I've asked you repeatedly not to contact me.

That hearing you say that you're getting your life back together, and that it's easier without me as a 'distraction', felt like a knife in my chest.

That I still love you.