You were a rebound. I thought it, I wondered, I hoped against it. And you’re hurting but you’re numb. But you weren’t like this when we broke up. You had stopped caring a long time ago. I know you’re not lying; after we became friends again, you told me this. And I smiled and said, “Oh. I’m glad.”
Funny. I still care about you. Still somewhat love you. Still in love with you, just a little bit. And it’s always, always more than you ever will feel for me. I don’t want our relationship back. We love too differently.
When is it okay to say I love you? When will I trust you enough to ever tell you again?