“It isn’t love. Not even close.”
That’s what I tell myself when she’s on my mind.
I’ve known her a couple years,
but we’ve only really known each other a few months.
We spoke one night, when I was a thousand miles away,
about future plans, past memories, and current moods.
We covered every topic
and learned so much from each other,
almost intimate, but never crossed those boundaries
because we both had limitations.
I’m unsure how she feels, but I know for sure,
that, I don’t love her,
at least that’s what my mind wants me to think,
but deep down, a visceral love–
is hard to deny even when reason disagrees.