Is this all you can describe us as?
Is that all we were to you?
I thought, perhaps,
I had stayed up until four in the morning
on school nights and on breaks
talking to you as though,
Mutually,
nothing else mattered.

I thought, perhaps,
when you told me to wait,
that you didn't have the time,
that it would be worth my patience
(Or perhaps my lack thereof).

I thought, perhaps,
that when I saw your face,
heard your voice,
listened to you chuckle,
woke up from a half slumber and saw you watching me,
some weird mix of admiration and love and lust and passion in your quirky gaze,
we meant something to one another.

But you've revealed the truth, and that's alright.
I can find another Lily in my pond.