The first time I looked at her photos,
I didn't like her.
I also didn't like the deeply cutting feeling in my stomach.
The light anguish I didn't want to accept: I wasn't hurt,
I can't care about your past because I don't care about you.

Today when I looked at her photos, I saw another being.
A happy, full of life, brimming with energy type of being
And I found myself understanding why you loved her.
I like her too. Even if you don't love her anymore (and maybe you do?)
I can't trust you, and I can't feel hurt. No.