I don't know if I loved you,
or if I loved being in love.
Maybe my ego hurt more than my heart,
cause I feel like for you I wasn't enough.
I don't know if I miss your fingers on my skin,
or only being so sweetly touched.
Perhaps you weren't the one,
but just one within much.
I don't know if I was happy with you,
or just glad to be in someone's heart.
It might not be what love was supposed to be,
but in fact, simply a false start.