My legacy.
I wonder if time was a friend to you as well. I see you; all I sense is defeat, humility, and sadness. I know I changed you. I know I'll be a memory that lingers. A permanent pain in your heart. A bittersweet sensation on your tongue.
All the malice you directed has backfired, accelerated by my burning passion for retribution. I am damaged—all of what I thought I had hoped for.
What I feel is inconclusive. A part of me wants you to suffer for all the times you occupied the space in my mind meant for joy. You should suffer for that. Feel everything that I felt.
To be sad for you when nobody was sad for me. What I feel is inconclusive is the question of empathy. Is that a grace I can offer to someone that betrays me?