I don’t know if I love you. I’ve tried talking to you about a break to help me clear up my feelings but every time I bring that up it’s like the end of the world with you. I told you that I didn’t think you loved me and I tried to explain to you why but you just cried to me and you told me that you do, you do, YOU DO and yet... I think I’m the one that doesn’t love you. As we sat in your Durango and you spilled your feelings all over me and handed me your heart to have, I didn’t feel anything. Not love. Not remorse. Nothing. I was numb to your pain, pain I did not share and God I wanted to tell you that but the thought of breaking your heart broke mine. You were my first as I was yours but is that why we can’t find the courage to leave? Because we’re scared we won’t find this damned so called “love” again?

I’m not happy. But I can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I wish I could tell you this. I probably never will. Will we just end up breaking each other’s heart? Have our love die the day our story ends? I don’t think I love you. I know I can’t live without you. I don’t know what to do.