A letter of Francisco's girlfriend. Lilieth.
Francisco,
Did you ever love me?
I’m stupidly confused. Uncertain but yes you made me feel unsure of your love. I feel that you’re always waiting for someone else, searching for someone not me, wishing even when we’re in bed intertwined. How is that love? Tell me if my concept of love is wrong but please don’t lie anymore. You’re just good at hiding but not professional at it.
And tell me if love was giving your body but not your heart and soul, caring for me, doing what an ideal lover does-but with a half-hearted style. Tell me if love was uncertainty, pain and feeling of not knowing whether to leave or endure it as it is. Tell me if our love is even considered love or just another passing time to cover up your agony and sighs. Please f**
