But honey, you know nothing about love.
It’s not love if it’s only benefiting you, and not both of you.
It’s not love if all you did was made her crazy.
It’s not love if you’re only craving the physical stuff.
It’s not love if you claim you’re telling the truth when in fact you just selectively tell her what you want her to know.
It’s not love when you can stand not speaking to her for days.
It’s not love if you’re just leading her on.
That’s not love, my dear.
You think it is because you’re the only one feeling it. She loved you so damn hard, you know. She gave you everything she had, not caring if she was left with nothing. She just wanted you to be happy. She loved you in ways you can’t love her. But you just threw it away, telling yourself you deserve so much better when she already gave her best. She loved you too much, too hard that she’ll always take you back no matter how many times you screwed up.
That’s her fault I guess, loving the ones who know nothing about love; loving the lost, the broken.
But it’s your fault too, for not appreciating the love she’s willing to give.
Someday, the universe will give back all the love she gave you that you took for granted. To another guy who knows her worth, someone who knows how to take care of her. And when that day comes, that’s when you’ll realize that you lost the moon while chasing after dead stars and bright, deceiving meteorites.