the statistical probability of love

only

You realise how stupid you've been, you should've known - he was too good to be true

The memory of him holding another girl in his arms- seared into your brain like a bad tattoo. You can't say you didn't see it coming

Was it the shortage of love letters?

Or was it the decreasing amount of love he once showered upon you?

when he'll come home you'll both pretend you're not crying and he's the reason why.

You're no longer sure where darkness ends and you begin