I’m not sure I do.
I value you more than anyone else.
It isn’t romantic though.
And despite feeling this way for so long, I don’t believe it’s permanent.
Both of us know that nothing ever is.
People have told me I love you.
Childishly. Unreasonably. Delusively.
I never dispute it, but “love” doesn’t sound right.
Many argued I needed to burn the letters you wrote me.
Eventually, I relented, but my regret and resentment were immediate.
Not because I love you, but because they were wrong.
“I am incapable of loving or being loved right now.”
I continue finding myself wishing I could reread those words.
The memories of the emotions they made me feel slip further away.
Hope for a warmer, brighter, and better story.
When it’s the only thing to compare my feelings to, then maybe I do love you.
Only you can answer if it is love, and if we are in it.