I want to know why I love you; so that I can find the eject button and flush you out of my system.
I want to know how you crawled under my skin so that I can find the tear and extract you.
I want to know when I fell for you so that I can replay the sequence of events in my mind and find a different ending to the narrative.
I want to know why you matter so I can reason you out of my affections; using logic to drive out sentiment.
I wish I knew you better so that I could have things to hate about you.
Like maybe if you always leave the toilet seat up – I could hate that about you. Or maybe if you snore in your sleep – I could learn to loathe you for it.
I just need to know one thing about you that I can hate. I would latch onto it, make it a fixation and use it to obscure whatever qualities that attract me to you.
I want to know why it’s you and not someone else?
What qualified you to be the recipient of my affection and why are you such a frequent pedestrian in the corridors of my mind?
The things I know about you wouldn’t fill a restaurant napkin and yet here you are; nestling nicely in my heart without my consent.
How did you get here?
Which room in my heart did I leave ajar, for you to stroll right in and make yourself at home?
I want to un-love you but first I must figure out how I came to love you.
I want to reverse it – this feeling I have.
I want to grab cupid’s arrow, yank it out of my chest, tell him to keep his aim straight next time and then break the stupid arrow to pieces!
I guess what I mean to say is you’re not the one.
And I know you’re not the one because I can’t be the one.
Not now, not yet and maybe – not ever.