You stopped telling me you love me when you started telling her how beautiful she looks in that dress. I should have known better than to think our relationship would last longer than a year but I've always been naïve and I guess some things never change. I spent three months convincing myself that you still cared, two months gripping onto fading memories and one month thinking about every "someday" and every "always" but I guess always to you means something totally different than what it is to me. Three months have passed since you stopped telling me you love me and I hope she makes you happy in the ways that I never could. I hope she kisses your forehead and I hope she strokes the side of your hand with her thumb when you're not doing so well. I guess I'm not doing so well, I haven't been feeling okay since you left me three months ago but maybe I was just living on borrowed time and I guess it's finally time to give it back.