Really again, or something new, but still as broken.
Confused, beyond my understanding.
A brush off still, the hugs, the smile, the slap in the chest, the playful banter?
Tells her friends the other guy is maybe the one, she tells me he’s a date. Why?
Why do I persist? Is she my one? Does it matter?
When did I know, that I may never see her again, that I couldn’t bear it.
I love her.
Love of life, a warm and caring light, shining emerald eyes.
I love her still.