You do not love him.
For ****'s sake: you do not love him.
You are scared of being alone-
we all are. You are scared of being alone
despite your claims of freedom and independence;
all those hours you spend alone
in the comfort of the screen,
or else in the haunts of all the tracks
he has trod or stumbled over before
in the meadow of your memories.
You do not love him.
You love the happiness that has passed between you,
like teenage *****; like childhood sugar;
you outgrow everything
that was not built for your needs.
You know that I am.
You know that I am.