we don't have a song. we don't have photos. we don't have inside jokes or even moments that we can talk about. you don't know my friends or favourite books or movies or artists, and you don't tell me about yours. i've seen your parents precisely three times, and you see mine every day, but you don't care enough to make conversation with them. honestly, you don't even seem to care enough to make conversation with me. "i miss you" or "i love you" every other minute gets a little stale. maybe it'd mean more if you could once explain why you love me, but you can't even do that. i practically wrote an essay on it, and you can't give me two reasons. maybe you just say it because you think you're expected to. maybe you still don't know what love is.

mar 31 2014 ∞
mar 31 2014 +