You never knew what I really felt about you. I loved you so much that I was willing to hide the magnitude of that love from you. You said that things had to be fixed first; I was willing to wait. I loved you more with every day, as I do now, but what once never existed now never exists.

You said you wouldn't love me, you said you couldn't commit. Was it something I did? Was it something I said? For what wrong could I have committed to you that you refused to commit to me? If love is wrong, then all this time, I did have sin in my heart. But all know that love is good and my heart was pure.

But you have done all you could to extinguish that flame in my soul. You had my heart, you had my love, but one is never enough. That's what you meant, wasn't it? I would gladly have given you everything, but my love is now nothing to you.

It pains me so to feel this loss. You could have told me sooner. Rather, I lived in love and lived in blindness, only to be crushed as we were passing into love's pinnacle. Or so I thought. You never loved me.

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