I still love you.
I know that you and her are together now, but I still can't stop loving you.
And I'm trying not to. I'm going to get over it, just like every other time I was rejected.
But there's still an ache in my heart, cause I fucking loved you.
I still do.
It's shown in so many ways, in how I would stare at the screen, begging the gods above for you to come online.
In how I would dream of a future where we raised our wonderful adopted children,
where we took countless videos of them as babies and toddlers and we would sit by the computer
years later with our children grown up and watch them together and laugh and smile.
I dreamed of a future where we played together in the snow on cold winter days even though we were in our thirties,
I dreamed of a future where you cuddled beside me on a sleepy summer morning and I stroked my fingers through your beautiful hair.
I spent hours staring up at my ceiling dreaming of how I would drive over to you four years in the future and tackle you and kiss you for the first time,
kiss anyone for the first time.
I would dream up ship names for us.
I dreamed of everything.
I dreamed of us, I dreamed of so many things.
But none of this is your fault.
We don't choose who we love, no matter how much we might wish to.
But should I feel resentment?
Maybe I should be telling myself to hate you,
but I can't, I just can't.
I still love you, after all.
And I don't know if you and her will break up or if you won't,
but what I do know is that no one will ever love me, least of all you.
So I know that I'll have to do it again,
I'll have to stand up again and pick up the shattered remains of my blackened heart and put them back together.
I'll just have to get over it on my own.