Falling in love with him was a punishment. I had to give myself limitations. My happiness depended on his, but his happiness never depended on mine. I cared, he didn’t. Still, he’d tell me that he loves me. I’d believe him. However, believing was my mistake. Maybe I wanted those words from him. Yes, I did. But they weren’t enough. They didn’t feel right. He didn’t make them feel like they’re right.
Maybe he loved me through words, but I loved him through feelings. Maybe it’s what set us apart in the first place. Anybody could be loved through those words, but not anybody could be loved so easily with feelings involved.