The whole truth.
You are insensitive about how I feel; You always have been. I turned a blind eye to that because I love way too hard.
You lack conviction. You cling to an apathetic facade to avoid real issues in your life.
You only ever acknowledge me when I reach out to you. I don't remember you ever checking up on me or ever worrying about me. It's always one-sided.
You grow and grow more like a stranger as the years have gone. I don't feel like you appreciate my company anymore.
You could live your life perfectly fine even if I weren't around. I realize your life would probably be so much better if I weren't around anyways. You probably think that too.
You act in the manner that annoys me the most; I always push the idea to the back of my head, but, you know what, I hate that you're selfish.
I hate that I have to hear you talk about how you are so deprived of love when I could give you all the fucking love in the world. How do you think that makes me feel?
I hate that I have to act or pretend sometimes. I hate that I'm still approval-seeking.
As much as there are great things about you, there are also a lot of pretty shitty things too. Why should I censor that? You never cared about how I felt; there was never any concern for me?