What do you do when you’ve waited months hoping that, just maybe, you weren’t the only one who lied? Perhaps she lied, too? Each breath taken is only a bi-product of this small glimmer of light shining brightly at the end of each day.
When you said that you were over her, knowing full well that you were not, every ounce of your being cringed and prayed that she was deceiving you; if only she had been cleverly fabricating her words in order to help ease the pain of separation.
True, she has admitted to still having feelings; however, these are not the same feelings you believe you will forever sustain towards her. Further, her thoughts of a relationship with you are farfetched, to say the least.
She insists her intentions are best for both of you, but you don’t care. You just know you love her. That’s it. You love her. You can’t have her, but you love her nonetheless.
Her image materializes during every verse of sadness; beauty unimaginable radiates. Interests: her’s become yours. Passions: one in the same.
Inexplicable fervor: unceasing.
Value for oneself: finite.
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