The moment we met you were infatuated. You were delusional with affection. The way I learned how to conjure words from the inner pits of lust and fondness created the illusion of something far more complex than love. The epitome of regret. 

Your intellect was mesmerizing, which, I will admit kept me intrigued. How delicate your words were when the air left your lungs and your soul flooded the meaning before it captivated my attention. 

With much repent I must admit that I loved you. The instant I became speechless it was not a romantic gesture. My lack of words mimicked the end of my adventure. I feared the demise. My apologies for not being the compassion that you were seeking for. You asked me why I could not love you. It was not that I couldn’t. There were simply no words that I have learned that could remotely express the endearment that my heart held for you. 

The moment we met you were infatuated. You were delusional with affection. The way I learned how to conjure words from the inner pits of lust and fondness created the illusion of something far more complex than love. The epitome of regret. 

Just admit it. I am only temporary.