Inamorato

Dearest Love
Remember how we used to spend all those times together pretending like everything was more than it truly was.
A holiday has made things sink right in.
Not in a way of discomfort or sadness.
I don’t even know who you are.
You meant so much to me and I meant so little to you.
Little maybe even nothing.
Nothing.
Odd how I made you everything.
Everything.
So as much as I want to pretend like I hope you’re happy and I’m just too good for you, I know that these statements are lies. But that’s what we do with each other. We lie.
Lie. Lie to ourselves even. Maybe not you but I do. I lie and say maybe one day you’ll get it. Lie and say it meant something more to you than what it did.
Lord I sure must be sick in the head.
Dearest Love the things that you do.