I look at the paper silently. This is what I thought I wanted.
But I find myself wishing for the old days, when she was just using me. And I just enjoyed it. Because I didn't want her to use someone else.
I miss when we were simple. When I was hers, and she was hers, and that was all. When we both pretended that we couldn't tell she was just using me.
When I kept it to myself that I knew, because I didn't want her to leave. How simple it is pining after love that will never be yours.
It gets a little complicated when she wants to love me back.
I started to hate loving her. But I didn't stop. Even though it got a little rough...
I call her phone.
She doesn't pick up. I leave a voice mail.
"Where are you? Where are you taking our child? Come home, we can talk—" I sigh. "We can work t
