I'm not heartless,
because I still have a heart.
I'm not empty,
because I'm full of pain.
I'm not alive,
because my mind lives in the past.
I know I shouldn't hate her,
and I don't,
but I can't stop comparing.
I can't stop thinking "what if" and why--
why I fell in love with you,
why you left me in the cold,
why she's so much better than me.
Today,
I almost starting crying,
in a room full of people,
because I saw you playing on stage,
and the look on your face was beautiful.
I've always had a thing for hands,
and yours are no exception.
They're strong,
masculine, and warm.
They're confident,
and whisper of fire and courage in their grip.
I think hands can tell a lot about a person,
so as I watched the hands of one of the two best bass players I know,
I felt them in mine again.
The tears started pricking my eyes,
and I wanted nothing more than to run out of that room,
and find a corner somewhere to cry in.
But I can't--
because I have to be strong.
I have to pretend I don't care.
I have to pretend that you didn't break my heart and ruin my life 8 months ago.
I have to pretend that every time I'm in front of a mirror,
I don't wish that you think I'm beautiful.
I have to pretend that I'm indifferent,
over it,
and happy to be single.
But what I realized today that completely terrified me?
I might still be in love with you.
