I'm not exactly sorry. Strange how it is that you know and I know that you know. But because you doubt yourself, the thought hovers over your mind like a ghost. You have outbursts of temper because you're not sure. You see him and the feeling is increased tenfold, could it be? Maybe the way they look at each other, the way their hands linger. You notice that when we say hello our kisses are more intimate, we're enjoying each momment.
You compare notes, he' s physique to yours, he' stature, the way he carries himself...he seems so sure. What is it that has him sit so confidently across from you? You want to know if he's the one, if something happened... I could tell you or I could just watch you torment yourself. You lash out, but say sorry because I don't seem to care anymore. I'm preoccupied, but not with thoughts of you. I don't share my thoughts with you anymore. The cost of my thoughs just went up.
I'll tell you, for in a thousand years you'll never ask.... Yes, yes to everything about him. I have no regrets and I realy don't care if you walked out that door and didn't come back. I have been loved, my wishes and desires have been granted. My thoughts have been held as if jewels in shakespear's fabled ethiops ear. I can die happy, now knowing that I have been loved, that I am loved. And you selfish, conceited, self centered narcissistic pig, are now the object of my pity. Every time I look at you I feel moved by pity. Your idea of love is to have me orbit about you and your every need. I'm not sure I care to put up with you for pity's sake anymore. Everyone deserves happiness, in some countries it's a constitutional right. When I say 'so long sucker...' I won't be sorry to see the back of you. Most important of all....I am not sorry, not now, not ever, for stumbling on love so inappropriately.