Within my soul I hold no love for myself; I hold only love for you. I suppose I'm loving myself, for you love me and by loving you, I love what you do; which is myself. The only difference between our love is that the love you hold for me is not the love I hold for you; your love belongs to another. You kiss her, caress her, touch her, and call her yours. I could not compete for I am no beauty, my soul is rotten. I hold no distasteful emotions for your love: In fact, I hope your happiest beside her. I hope she cares for you the way you deserve and that every moment you two share is beautiful. I hope you never fight and never cry or fear the loss of her love. I hope she never leaves you, abandoned, with no words to soothe your aching heart. I hope she kisses your pain away and supports you endlessly. I hope she grounds you and calls out your misbehavior. I hope she never puts you in the position you put me in: Breaking and in love. Most of all, I hope she loves you. It would pain me terribly to suffer silently whilst you waste your precious mind and soul on such an unworthy host.
I can not complain, and I shall not. For the words and small moments we share feed me. I hold them closely and analyze them for when we part or when I miss you most. I fear my love will never die but it is not a demanding love, I could bear never holding you or soothing your pain: I could live without kissing you or touching you the way lovers do. Your smile is enough to keep me afloat. Blessed be me for even sharing an acquaintance with you; for we could never be friends. You've seen me naked.
The only thing I fear most is that she would break your heart. I'd be unable to pick up the pieces. You see, I'm still picking up the pieces of my heart that you broke. Perhaps then, I could mend what was broken by another and you could mend what you broke. The future is alluring for one reason: It's unpredictable. I have the smallest hope that you will love me, even if it's just for a little, that'll be more than enough for me.