Not once did I say I love you.
Not to them.
Not to you.
Not to myself.

But if it wasn’t love,
How can these feelings linger for so long?
Is it the fact that you were never mine?
Well, not mine in the normal sense.

You were my best friend.

Sometimes,
I think my letter is what made you leave,
But that can’t be true.
You left long before I even wrote the letter.

There were letters before that.
I wrote them late at night
When I couldn’t get you out of my head.
Those letters never met paper.
They all sit on my computer
And in my heart.

The letters that begged you to stay.
I wrote that you should go,
But you would know to stay.

The letters that told you I was lost.
I wrote that I was fine without you,
But you would know I am crumbling.

Maybe it’s because you know me so well.
You know me better than I know myself.

Maybe it’s because not only do you know me,
But I know you
Better than you would ever admit.

Is that why you cut me off?
You don’t want me to know you anymore,
Or do you not want to know me?
Or, maybe,
You already know how much you hurt me,
Without me ever saying a word.

I don’t want to believe it was love,
So I’m never going to say I loved you.
Not to them.
Not to you.
Never to myself.