I don’t love you.
You’re so annoying, I couldn’t possibly love you.
I don’t even know what love is, so how could I possibly love you…?

I don’t love you when I slip into bed at midnight, and you pull me sleepily into your arms.
I don’t love you when you’re awake and gazing at me with those adoring blue eyes.
I don’t love you when you whisper how wonderful I looked tonight, when we’re alone, in the dark.

I don’t love you when you ask me to kiss you again, because the first time just wasn’t enough.
I especially don’t love you when I have a draining cold, and you tell me my voice sounds ****.
And I definitely don’t love you when your fingers slink between mine, unnoticed, when we’re watching the television.

I certainly don’t love you when you ‘accidentally’ kiss my nose and it sends a shiver down my spine.

That’s it.
I’ve got all the evidence.
I’m glad I’m so certain of how much I don’t love you.