Ah, unrequited love. When your best isn't good enough.

You are love of my life so far.

I will always love you, or anyway, I will always have loved you now.

You don't love me, but you used to. I wanted to say thank you for that.

Okay, now imagine I am falling in love with you. Can you picture it? Now picture that backwards.

All I ever wanted was love, until you loved me.

Love is a drawer for knives to rust in.

I have loved since you. But when the new paint gets scratched, there you are underneath.

I wish being in love was enough. I wish it counted for anything at all.