What Hurts the Most

What hurts the most?
The guilt that every day
tears through me;
burning daggers slicing my soul.
Is that it?
No, not even close.
The fact that both of us
were so naive,
so very wrong.
That after all this time,
we new ourselves so little
that we could let this happen.
Is that it?
No, not even close.
The self-loathing
that permeates my existence,
makes every sunny day dull
like all the others.
Is that it?
No, not even close.
The fact that all endings hurt,
and that this one is no different.
The fact that we were never special,
that all along,
we were caught in a mundane romance
that was about as unique as this poem.
The fact that my feelings now are
nothing more than teenage angst.
That no matter what,
we will always be normal.
That not even romance
can ever change that.
That in the end,
it doesn't matter.
That we will both move on,
trying to pretend
that it never happened.
Is that it?
Yes.