AN: I tried a different style with this, not sure whether it's as cool as I thought it was when I wrote it or whether it's just crap. Feel free to tell me either way.

I told you on that first day we decided to try and be in a relationship that I might not be able to give you what you need.
You said it was fine, you had what you needed and I was just what you wanted.
Back then that was alright – we were alright.
I would make you smile (and you had no reason to hate me).

Then came the day you told me you loved me.
To say I was shocked would be putting it mildly - To say I was scared would hit right on the spot.
I told you then that I might not ever say it back to you, that if I did I would not know whether it was a lie, (and I'd rather not lie to you.) Because in all honesty, how would I know what love is?
You nodded, assured me it was fine – we would be fine.
I would still make you happy (but I think you had started to doubt me).

Then we had that fateful fight. It was a huge one, not the usual. One that was personal, meaningful.
You said things to me that we both believed I deserved and I said things to you that I'm unsure you deserved in return.
And afterwards, when I would not feel sorry, (or maybe just didn't tell you I was,) and when you didn't say you were sorry, (and didn't say that you loved me) we decided that it just wouldn't work.
I couldn't make you happy – we would never be happy.
(That was when you had reason to hate me).

But we survived. Overcame awkwardness. Rebuilt what little of a friendship we had.
We pretended to be okay – hoping that one day we actually might be okay.
I would make you smile again, but your eyes would never betray the hurt. (It was evident how a part of you still hated me).

And then. Then she came into my life and everything, everything changed.
You told me you liked her – like I told you I liked whoever you were seeing at the moment.
And when she made me smile, you smiled too, told me you were happy for me. (And part of you was, I think. But part of you still wasn't, part of you would never be).

Yesterday she told me, for the first time, she loved me. And I wasn't shocked. I wasn't scared.
Hearing those words made me, for the first time, say them back. And they were simple. And maybe, maybe they were true.
But as I said them, I couldn't help wondering, how much will you hate me now?