Love

I love you. I know you don't know this but I do. I love you.

L.O.V.E. Love, it's a hell of a thing, I though I knew what it was, but that night it changed my perception. I though I loved you. I really wanted to believe I did but now that I look back on it, that wasn't love. It was infatuation. What we did that night was not love. I may have been loving you, but it wasn't love, it was rushed and careless.

The night you stayed over was something I wasn't expecting. Earlier that day you said after supper you had to leave to go to a friends house. I was okay with this, but things quickly changed that day. You never left that night, you didn't leave until the next morning. I asked you to and made sure you knew it was okay if you did. I think that what I said made you feel that I thought what we did was a mistake. I didn't but I was scared that you would see it as a mistake. You won't talk to me anymore, you stop our conversations short. I don't hate you, I never did and I never will.