I think I've finally made up my mind, but I come to find I haven't.
You didn't even let me explain, maybe to prevent pain and reverting back to all that turmoil.
You filled my mouth with words you found true, things to convince yourself that you already knew the story.
I tried to say what I had on the tip of my tongue, using the breath from my lungs to speak up.
But you already had an idea of how everything was, and I didn't get to fully explain because of that.
You'd interrupt and tell me that I was wrong, that you knew all along that it wasn't you.
And from your point of view, I can see why you feel that you were a new, short term fling.

You were more than a rebound, more than another guy I'd found to make up for someone else's absence though.
You were more than second best, to that I wish I could attest and make you believe me though.
You were the most fun I'd had in awhile, always providing me with a smile and a sense of adventure that summer.

Soon after you left my life for a bit, with good reason, and I took that as a hit and left yours too.
Then you recently returned, and you're not the only one who yearned for the past.
But you won't believe me when I say that I still wanted you, that my feelings are prevalent and true and here and frankly won't go away.

We can blame circumstances or timing,  we can blame deceit and lying to ourselves and one another.
I'm still here, I still feel and though that's clear to me you don't see it.
Live with that facade and false reality, when in actuality that's furthest from the truth.

We can't so we won't begin again to pursue, I'll pretend what you "know" is true.
I'll let it be, you'll move on and see you're okay.
I'll watch you walk away, and whatever chances of us fade as well.
That's what is best, or so it seems; just leave it alone and let it rest until it's over.
Let it go, and deal with the fact that you'll never know.