You were my everything. Literally everything.
You were my girlfriend,
My Best Friend,    
My only friend.  
The girl I was in love with.
You were my McDonalds date,
My Harry Potter movie marathoner.                  
You were my study partner,
My all night cuddler.
Literally everything.
You were every thought that crossed my mind.
You were every math problem or chemistry equation, and the only history I cared about was ours.
You were night and day,
sunset and sunrise.
You were past, present and future.
You were purpose..
Literally everything.

You just won't look me in the eyes.
I will admit its weirdly adorable.
But I long to stare into them.

I want to lock eyes with you for as long as I can.

In hope that I can possibly understand you more.

Those eyes, they're gorgeous, and they hold so many untold secrets.

I can see something in them.

 Something I long to understand as my own thoughts (as if I understand my own thoughts either).

You're so incredibly hard for me to wrap my mind around.    

I don't know just what it is, but I know I'm dying to find out every detail I can.

I don't understand why you won't look at me.

You'll hold eye contact for seconds then look away.  

I just don't get it.
                                    
Until, you did stare in my eyes..

You see, it was so easy for me to look at you and your eyes when you weren't looking into mine.

But the moment you stared into mine I understood completely.          

Because in that moment, I realized just how vulnerable to you I really am.
                                                        
And it scared me half to death.

I miss the feeling of pure happiness I got when I was able to run around in the rain and not get in trouble for dirtying my clothes.

I miss staying outside on warm summer nights with my brothers catching fireflies until we were forced inside.

I miss jamming out to "heart and soul" on the piano with my dad, thinking it was the coolest thing in the world.

I miss my grandma telling me not to roll down the hill with no shirt on because I would be itchy. (But I did of course anyway. Several times.)

I miss waiting for the heaviest snowfall, and going outside for hours to build a snowfort. (Even though we got cold and kicked it down anyway.)

I miss being carefree. Only worrying about what mom was cooking for dinner.

Most of all, I miss how much more the little things meant to me.

I long for those feelings again.

What if it wasn't love?
What if I wasn't actually in love with your soul, but in love with the security in which it brought me?
I miss you every second, and want you so often, but what if it isn't actually you that I miss?

I always put you before myself.  
I always did anything you wanted, anything you needed.
I went through any amount of hurt you put me through because I put you first.
But what if I didn't?      
                                            
Maybe I'm just so selfish I'm not able to accept the fact that I actually did all of that for myself.

Maybe I went through it all because I knew I needed security to want to live.
I needed a purpose & you were there to give me one.

So what if I was the bad guy all along?
All the times you hurt me, and all the times you did me wrong, did I only go through all of that to keep my purpose? My reason to live?
      
That makes me the selfish one.
Only really thinking about my own feelings.
That makes me the bad guy.

Both circumstances are so very contradictory,
Yet both outcomes could be identical.
Did I love so much that I stayed through it all for you?
Or was it lack of love?  Which I stayed only for myself because I was scared of being alone or feeling like I didn't matter to anyone anymore...?          
                                                    
So was it really love?              
Or was it the lack thereof?