"I love you,"
One:
You are the first person to ever say that to me
The grass felt soft and the air warm
We couldn't stop laughing

"I love you,"
Two:
I'm a bit more skeptical because words aren't actions
And you're actions are yelling another story; it sounds more like a tragedy than a comedy.

Three:
Someone told me they loved me before, but hadn't thought about what it means. I trust you are most selective with my feelings. (A candle-lit dinner means more than artificial light.)

"I _ _ _ _ you,"
Four:
We say "love" as often as "hate;" they can be equally destructive.

Five:
I'm alone. I can love myself.

"I love you,"
Six:
This time I said it first. That was a mistake. You are only skin deep. You couldn't understand anything more than perfume and mascara. It makes all the difference if you break or are broken.

Seven:
We are collapsing buildings, screaming it one last time before we accept we never had a chance. If we had been trees we could have swayed in the breeze.

Eight:
I am alone.

"I love,"
Nine:
My love is for someone else, not for myself.

Ten:
I'm very cautious when someone says, "I love you." I've heard it before. I have only seen it through squinting eyes.
When it's honest, I hope I know how to care for it properly.