Like, you don’t actually love them and you know you don’t, but you know you could. You realise that you could easily fall in love with them. It’s almost like the bud of a flower, ready to blossom but it’s just not quite there yet. And you like them a lot, you really do. You think about them often, but you don’t love them. You could, though. You know you could.
I don’t know what I was expecting from you. Maybe I just wanted you to tell me to give up and move on so that I can finally come to my senses and get over you. Maybe I just wanted you to tell me how you really feel about me all the time. Maybe I wanted you to tell me how you feel when we talk or when you see me. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I was expecting something.