Not.Happy.

You say "I know it's not her"

You say "She knows it's not me"

But you proceed that.

You continue that.

You tell me that like it's worth of some credit.

I just feel sorry for you, for me.

Waisting this, letting time passes.

One more hour with no love.

One more day without our love.

One more week just imagining.

You want years to pass?

You want decades of this?

A life of what could have been?

An if so heavy it hurts?

Something is not right with your wrongness.

There's reasons you don't tell me.

There's secrets you hide from me.

But I know you're hiding it from you.

You're being blind for you.

Don't know the reason.

Be reasonable.

For once, understand.