You loved him so much it actually hurt you to think about it.
You felt your chest tighten up and your head start spinning, because the idea of loving him so much was astronomically far from where you wanted to be.
You don't even know exactly when it happened.
When interest turned to infatuation,
and infatuation turned into caring,
and caring turned into loving him with your whole being.
You don't know.
You don't care.
You tell yourself that it's nothing. That his sweet words, his wooing of your heart, can be controlled.
You can control this.
You tell yourself that you are not attached.
You know,
because you would never allow that.
You would never allow yourself to fall for someone you never met before, never touched physically.
Oh but you have,
his words have found a bed inside your buzzing brain
and his voice has caressed your body day in and day out.
He was yours.
You were his.
Something like that.
It's tangled within the promises and sweet nothings placed around your torsos, interconnecting and weaving you two together like an intricate painting.
You love him,
even when he's laying in bed -
thinking of her.
