What if we both weren’t two takers.
It’s not even love. It’s as if love, loyalty and compersion all melded together.
I’ve felt the warmth of your heart, but not the heat. It’s a position that I fell into while being honest with you. Sometimes crying with me made me feel like I was hurting you. It made me not want to speak of anything at all. Your tears are more painful to me than the initial hurt that I’d suffered, and far more painful than any hurt I could bare thereafter.
Does she even know?