Because there should have been no room for miscommunication. It should have been clear that in whatever I said, you wouldn’t be able to think it meant anything but I love you, because I really did love you. There should have been no reality where you looked at me and doubted that. Where you looked at me and thought I didn’t know you, didn’t try to know you. Where you were in my bed one night and running from it the next. Where I was clouded by my pride.
