I think about you still, fortunately.
I think about
how your hands would find my waist in a split second,
how your lips would reach for mine like magnets,
how your heart would beat faster every time I laid on your chest,
how our love seemed so perfectly flawed,
how we could have been living had I not broken your heart,
how you’re kissing someone else,
how you’re loving someone else,
how I lost you.
I think about you still, unfortunately.
I hope you never read this confession.