You said I'm hard to read.
That you never know if I was being serious or if it was all a punch line to one big joke.
That you never knew if my I love yous were real or "I just liked to talk".

You stopped saying "Goodnight my love" because you were no longer scared of losing me, instead you hoped for me to not be there the next morning.

One drunken night I compared you to him because he too had said he would always be there, and you looked at me with anger because "you jut don't do that".

Who am I? you asked.
What's my name?
Where do I live? over and over again as if being scared I had forgotten about you and who you were.

That night you called me by her name.