A month ago I broke up with my girlfriend of 4 years. After 4 years of the relationship I became less interested in her. I fell out of love. And I hated myself because of it.
At first I ignored it hoping it would just go away on its own. But eventually I told her because I thought I wasn’t being fair to her. I told her I didn’t love her anymore but I still wanted to try again, but she said no. I respected her decision and we both parted ways. She was hurt and tired and devastated, but I was less so. And I hated myself because of it.
And now you’re here. You. I don’t know what it was that piqued my interest in you. Your sweet smile. Your alluring eyes. Your elegance. Your Audrey Hepburn-esque style. Your love for Britpop tunes. Suffice to say I was entranced.
But it had only been a month. Shouldn’t I still be sad? Shouldn’t I still be in anguish? Instead this is how I feel. And I hate myself because of it.
But damn you’re beautiful.
I’m scared of losing you when you’re not even mine yet. Maybe staying just as friends is better. Because you don’t look like you’d want a relationship, let alone a relationship with this loser.