I've always wondered what you saw in me; what part of me that made you label me as special.
Is it my eyes?
No.
The way I talk?
No.
The attention I give to you?
No.
So?
I don't think I could love any other one as much as I love you. That's how special you mean to me.
Then, suddenly... we were strangers again.
I still don't get how could someone say something as reckless as that. How could you decide that I am special and then in a blue moon... I don't fit that criteria anymore?
Was it because of her?
What did you find in her that you couldn't find in me?
I don't hate you, but I hate what you did to me.
I hate the way you made me feel.
I hate the way you made me think that I once was special.
That I once meant the whole world to someone.
