Now and then I think of when we were together, like when you said you felt so happy you could die. Told myself that you were right for me, but felt so lonely in your company. But that was love and it’s an ache I still remember. You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness. Like resignation to the end, always the end. So when we found that we could not make sense…Well, you said that we would still be friends.
I’m not comfortable with how the story ends.
We were lovers and now we’re not even friends.
You were perfect and I guess I’m just a creep.
But you still hurt me.