It’s stranger than strange to look at photos of me and you
From when we were together
In each photo I can feel my resistance
My confusion
This is my boyfriend?
I think he’s hot but not in a way I want to ****
I think he’s my pretty special friend
A beautiful muse
A unique and wonderful specimen
Someone I appreciate more than I can say
But the man I let in my bed?
How could it be you?
I kept expecting other people to validate my concerns
To see a photo and say really?
I don’t get it
But they didn’t so I’d think
Alright he must be right and we’re a good match
And I stayed until I met someone with whom I couldn’t deny sincere attraction
And that was the end
Of pretending to want you the way you wanted me