2 months ago I said I might love him.
I might love his mind.
The way he evaluates everything,
Logically, as if emotions aren't for making decisions.
I thought I loved the curve of his spine
And the muscles in his back
I thought I loved the way he looked when he played basketball
And how he screams right before he laughs.
I might have thought to love his caring touch,
When holding a baby sister named Chloe,
Or taking care of his geckos.
Or making sure the people he loved were happy,
Buying toaster stroodles when the girl he liked craved them,
Covering and healing broken hearts and old scars,
Saying he was in love.
Just not with me.

But if I loved him then I would miss him right?
I would be lying in bed wondering how I messed up,
Trying to figure out what I did wrong.
Depression would cave in
Obsession would break through
And everyone would be asking
"What the hell happened to you?"
But to me, it just didn't work out.
If I loved you that would make me upset
The secrets, the hiding, I'd be angry.
But I just don't care.

This is new.