speak in the past

I envy your ability to speak. I broke your heart and you can say that. You can tell me I'm a horrible person, you can call me immature, stunted, a tumor. It's amazing. I have thoughts on the subject but you'll not hear a word from me. I begged you to leave, and you wouldn't stop talking. Until you had said everything. That's how you move on. You told me everything you were thinking. You told me how you felt, when you were angry, why you were hurt. I listened and I broke, and I cried but I was silent. Now you are too. You're silent and gone, and I'm finally starting to want to speak. I should have done it when your ear was mine, with my silence I have solidified my thoughts. I will constantly think, and go over every detail, and every word I should have said. I don't know what it will take to move on, as I have buried myself in it rather than risen above.