I always liked magic.
Being tricked into believing things that are not real.
I even decided to learn it for myself.
I got so good that I managed to trick myself into believing we would work.
The feeling you gave me was so magical, I should have realized it to be fake.
You got under my sheets then vanished, as if you were never there, to begin with.
I played it off thinking you would pop up somewhere else like it was one of my tricks, but you never did.
Left searching alone for so long, I grew tired and impatient.
I have lost my love for magic even though I still managed to be tricked.
I have learned I was never a magician, just a jester playing the fool.