We Can Pretend

My first love was followed by a rather bad breakup. In retrospect, I can see he was borderline abusive, but despite that, it's hard to separate logic and emotions.
This isn't a detailed account of our last- or latest- meeting, it's heavily poetised.
I'm not perfect. I don't always do what I know is the right thing. And to an extent, I think I'm probably a masochist.
There are so many things I could say to him, but he doesn't deserve my words.
So instead, I'll put them here, for strangers on the internet to read.