The truth, is that, she loves you more than she should.
And the reasons are as tiny as the stars in the sky, and just as infinite.
It's in the way you held her. It's in the way your fingers intertwine with hers.
It's in the warmth she feels when she is with you.
It's in the words and tones used when you lightheartedly bicker with her.
It's in the air when you walk silently next to her.
It's in your eyes when you see her. It's your goofy smile. It's your glare.
It's in your playful gestures. It's in your touch.
It's in the way she smiles when she thinks about you...
She loves the way you make her feel in those moments...
And they make her happier than you will ever know.
And happiness, to her, something so fleeting nowadays,
Something so hard to come by, is why she loves you.
...But she will always be in the shadow of another.
And why her smile faded like the sunset.
This is the only struggle she feels, when she is with you.
The only reason why she holds back,
Even when she wants to give you everything.
And the reason why she tries so hard to win the little battles,
Because she knows that she will lose the war.
She can't compete, when she is always second best.
If you loved her, you would fight for her.
There wouldn't be anything keeping you apart,
Because that's how much she means to you.
That's how much her feelings mean to you,
That's how much you care for her.
You would want to, so badly, to make her happy, always.
To protect her, comfort her,
And above all, to rescue her from her past haunting,
Threatening to tear open wounds that are beginning to heal.
To keep your promise, of being the one
To help her let go of her fears,
To warm up her dying heart,
To be the reason she is whole again.
But that is the only fiction here.
And this... is the truth.
