The hardest thing about realizing you don't love me, is that you spent so much time pretending that you did. Right now I'm done believing you, loving you, trusting you, missing you. You don't even know what I'm feeling and you probably won't even understand. I'm less of a person thanks to you; nothing in world can match up to this pain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh what is love, a good poem about lifes rich tapestries of losing love.