You do not know yet, but stopped loving me . Happened at that dinner on Thursday in the bar that you both love to go. In a moment of distraction , our love fled and escaped through the window . I even tried to run back, pull your foot, insisting that he stay . I tried to get your attention for us fighting for it . But the waiter arrived , you sipped his whiskey without ice, I took my beer, and our love is gone . Disappeared and only God knows if it was captured by someone else .
Maybe he’s fallen in the middle of Oxford Street . Maybe took a plane and is now resting in the sand of some beach in Cornwall. Maybe someone else has found and stole for you. Who knows, it is on the corners of London , begging a little care and attention. Or maybe the love became ill , eventually died , as happened within you . Meanwhile , my love, here,still stuck in me and I´m lost without its pair.
What remains is swallowing my love as I watch her eyes no longer be mine. I hide my disappointment to see you struggling and failing to disguise . Because , basically, the more you try with all your strength , love is no obligation . But disaffection when invades , opens a hole and leave a bed where you lack and are left empty sheets .
The sad part is that , sooner or later , I’ll end up falling into the trap of asking if something is wrong ,If you escaped , if you are unhappy. And you’ll look away and pretend you did not notice and swear that this is nothing . Without knowing what your ” nothing ” beats inside me as sure that sometimes I do not want to believe .
And then , as someone who still has both saved love,I’ll watch you break a heart that someday, sworn to protect. And will not understand. Because loved me so much until yesterday. Because it was enough..And I’ll see you insist, insist, insist, while I pretend I believe. Or rather, wanting so much to believe.
You do not know yet, but stopped loving me . Happened during our dinners, our the hugs , fights , tears and ours the routine. Happened during the day -to-day , without you even noticing. Do not blame you – sometimes love ends . And I will not ask – because love is not asked . When will finished, at most, will be grateful . So, even though it hurts , I say thanks , one day , there was much love between us.