I don't know what we are. Your mother thought I was your girlfriend and wanted to buy me a shirt. You put my picture on your lockscreen and I made you take it off. I kissed you by the river. I refused to be your lover. There are so many things I didn't say and you got so used to my silence you made it a part of you, now I see more of myself in you than I do in me. I don't know what we are. I tried to tell you I love you but the words got stuck in my throat and you didn't want to hear it anyway, you were ready to fly away. Now you are in love with someone else and I am in love with you still and it hurts, but I know it is the phantom pain of an amputee. I still have your book from the year we first met on my shelf and I haven't touched it in years but if you ask for it I will say I have lost it so I don't have to give it back. I don't care about the book. Neither do you. I don't know what we are but I know I am part of the past that you are leaving behind. I hope you have a good life.
