I was in love.
I was in love with the way he kissed my head while he thought I slept.
I  was in love with the way he stared at me when he thought I wasn't paying attention.
I was in love with the way he sang to me, even though he was awful.
I was in love with the way he kissed my mouth when he made me upset.
I was in love with the way he wiped away my tears.
Mostly, I was in love with the way he made me fall in love everyday.

Until he didn't anymore.

What hurt was the way he called me names, even if he was kidding.
What hurt was the way he stopped caring about my passions.
What hurt was the way he didn't want to be around unless it was convenient.
What hurt was the way he stopped wiping my tears.
What hurt was the way he seemed to stop being in love with me.
What hurt was the way he didn't care until I was no longer his.

Maybe that's why they call it falling in love; because when things fall, they break.
Maybe I loved him, and that's why he always made me feel like I was broken.