He did love me. I know that. But I had to go. And now I see that, even though we would’ve been perfect together, we wouldn’t have been perfect for each other. I don’t see you as anything but a friend now but I still don’t want _her _to love you, let alone you loving her. But I know you don’t. I honestly don’t think that there will be anyone but me. And I hate that. Because I could never be who you need me to be. And… I try. I try every day to move on. And sometimes I think I do. But no. So I tried to fall for sometime else. And I came to the conclusion that if he tried as hard as I do, if he tries not to love me, then he’s not going to want to love anyone else. And I hate myself for that. Because he knew. And I still fell. And he still fell. And part of me will ALWAYS love him, but for now, I can only love him as a brother. Because if I let myself… love him… then I’ll never recover.