I'm not sure I ever loved him
I loved who I thought he was
I loved the idea of love
I loved the comfort
but it couldn't have been love
because his eyes never made me feel the way
yours do

(love is terrifying, not comfortable. love is tender and soft but horrifying)
(love is knowing this will hurt but convincing yourself it is worth it)

love is when you whisper in my ear something like, "I'm just trying to explain how much I like you. I like you sooo much. I could live with you. I just want to kiss you and talk with you and just lay with you if you don't feel like talking, I want to adventure with you. I just....I don't know."

Maybe love isn't real, and who cares
your "I don't know" is enough for me

I don't know either