Who was I to think that I loved you when you didn’t even let me in? You never gave me anything, I am only just starting to work you out now. How was I supposedly in love with you when I didn’t even know you, not really, only the surface; you never let me get any further.
I do love you, but I am not in love with you. You can’t be in love with a fictionalised version of a person. You’re my fantasy, you’ll always be a mystery because I didn’t take to your fancy like you thought and you were always guarded and I will never have you or know you in the way I would want to.
It’s just going to get worse because I get this friend version of you and I have to be happy for you on the sidelines and eventually when you find the girl of your dreams, I will have to be happy for you and be your friend. But there is nothing that hurts more than getting a piece of you and not the entire thing, if I can’t have you the way I want, then I don’t want anything. As much as it will kill me to walk away, it will kill me more to only get to be your friend and then it will kill me to watch you fall in love with a girl that isn’t me.
my favorite eye color is your eye color and my favorite height is your height and my favorite weight is your weight my favorite hands are your hands my favorite knees are your knees
You feel sad
I ache
you wait
I sigh
you laugh
I cry
thinking
how could you be happy
with someone else
when I love you more than you love yourself
The man I love doesn’t love me back and never will, what’s a girl to do?
