"No. Don't. Just stay inside."
As you say. I don't dare ask why.
"It is nice this way. And I can hear your heart."

"It sounds so loud."
(You treacherous heart)

But that wasn't the deal.
And how can I handle that?

...

What was the deal?
"This is just ***."
No kisses or romance or...

"Let's just forget."

...

I tried. Wished to. But I wonder you see...
"Just leave me alone. I won't talk about that."
...you censored the things that troubled you still.

"That is hilarious. And you are sad."

And your schadenfreude is not humane.
"I don't know what that is. I also don't care."
But I knew your humanity all too well.

"Stop talking about it. And thinking too."

I have still the right to ******* care about you!
"Look. Cut it now. All my friends know."
I feel betrayed and now the end appears close.

...

"Oh, well, you know. I may have possibly found you love-able. Once."

You mean ****-able, right? Can't mean anything else.
"Why are you talking like that? I don't like it. It is not you."
(So-over-you attitude) (Couldn't-care-less eyes) -I won't budge.

She's tearful, now, and then she smiles.

Just when I was giving in.
"This is such a funny thing!"
Almost impossible. Anger me, please!

I once couldn't stand one bit, you looking sad.

Faking is not me. You did deserve it.
"Well, night now. My boyfriend has come."
You'll have *** till dawn and boring chat. You told me so.

I walk to my room, and insanely alone,
I shatter my mind with one simple truth:
I loved you too much. You couldn't say you loved me back.

"It was just ***** back then. Didn't think that much."
And I was just a friendly mistake.
Mea culpa and it's gone.