I realize now
as I read your words dancing with the light of the screen,


                        I don't love you.


I wanted to be in love.
People seemed happy
when they are in love.

I wanted to be happy.
And being in love seemed
to take all the loneliness away.

It was then I remembered
the feeling buried with
forgotten memories.


                            I liked you.


And then I wanted to love you,
to love every inch
and every detail about you.



                            "I love you."

        

But I wasn't happy.
I wanted to be happy.
I thought if I loved you I would be happy.



                          "I loved you."
      


                                               I wasn't happy.
                                            I didn't love you.
                I was merely caught up with the
                                    idea of being in love,
                           of  being in love with you.