"I love you."
She didn't mean it genuinely but it was sweet when she said it. It was sweet and nice and it put me at ease to be told that I'm loved. Nobody understood how much I needed that. Nobody but her. Why did she know me more than everyone else then when she loved me no more? No less? What made her special?
What she told me differentiated her.
What she told me, despite being a lie, kept me happy and entranced. What she told me,
"I love you."
