It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time when I was still eighteen and my friends saw him cheat on me with his ex a few times but I still chose not to believe them. It’s that I’ve been told not to give him another chance. It’s that I never believed in anyone but him until one day, I saw him holding hands with her. It’s that he said he was sorry and promised not to do it again but this time I chose myself over another chance, and I promised not to trust people again.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time when I was about to start feeling fine again and I fell in love with my friend. It’s that I didn’t want to lose him and I know that he still has feelings for another girl. It’s that I tried so hard not to show it until one night, he held my hand and showed me what it’d be like to feel again but then I trembled at the thought; so I let him go.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I thought I’d never find someone in a world as fickle as ours when I already got so used to going through everything independently. It’s that I got so fixated at the thought that I build walls and always try to fence myself in. It’s that I can’t afford to be human and I thought I don’t need anyone. It’s that I’ve become so distant and detached towards the chances but then I met you.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time when I saw you standing there with the biggest smile on your face because you are doing something you love. It’s that I barely even know you and the remnants you still have with her. It’s that I’m already starting to recognize the feeling. It’s that I trembled at the thought of it again so I started running.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s just that every time I try to convince myself that I’m ready for you, I curl back and shrink behind my walls. It’s that I feel like I can’t have you while you still have a little something of hers. It’s that I’m already torn between running and believing that I could afford to try again just by looking at you. It’s that I think that one of the most bittersweet feeling is when you realize how many times you’ve been living the same loop like baring an unraveled thread while getting so used to it again and again. It’s just that I never mean to confuse you even though I always validate myself with metaphors.
But what I’m trying to say is—it’s not that I don’t love you; it’s that I do.