The Art of Missing You

If you were to ask me what love was, I wouldn't know. The colorful love I used to know had already died a long time ago. People say things happen for reasons, but I say, people are the reasons. I miss him more than I can say. If someone gave me the choice, I would have gladly switched places with him, or at least have been with him. But that wasn't the case. I wish I never fell in love. That way I wouldn't be suffering like right now.