breakdown.

So the train had not moved on as I thot it would be. Oh well, it will be a matter of time anyway.

Thoughts ran back, but I guess that is normal.

Take my memories and rantings about you as memento, of the good times and bad that we shared.
Take my anguish and pinings for you as praise, of what a good galfren you had been.
Take my troubled self and bitterness as a badge, of what a good choice u made to leave.
Take my moving on and intention to be frens as a sign, of my respect to your decision.
Take my unanswered messages and calls as an admonition, of how non-communication kills love.

We shared a short but forceful history. Too fast too furious. Too bad, too hard. A sentence or two in the annals of our lives, but please let it be known, it has made a difference. Short as it is, we are part of each other's history.

Correction.
I do not self-victimise. I am objective, but I express in the subjective, because I cannot claim to speak for the other person. Call it job hazard.

The train met with an accident... and never really left the station.