Before I met you, I defined love as when a man confesses to a woman, when they said "I love you" to each other, when they felt the same way for each other.
But after I met you, this definition was redefined.
You taught me that love was supposed to be complicated. Love is not meant to be patient because it will demand attention. Love is not kind because it kills me and it keeps me alive at the same time. Love does envy because even if how much I look at the intensity of love she and I give you, I will still be perpetually hidden behind the "best friend" blanket.
Love dishonors others because even if it was palpable that I was just a second option, I still pampered you with affection suitable for an honest lover. Love does keep a record of wrongs because every time I think of saying goodbye, I always persuade myself with the list of things you did to hurt me, yet I still end up finding one alibi to stay.
Love does not protect because every time I say goodbye you always tell me that I am special, but frankly it's not enough to protect me from the daggers of reality that I am just a substitute. Love doesn't always trust, because if you once tried serving two masters at the same time, how sure I am that you won't do it next time?
Love doesn't hope because we're hopeless. I am. I am hopeless being in this relationship, too. Love doesn't persevere because even though how much I tried pleasing you just for you to love me genuinely, you will still choose her over and over again, and that's the hardest part of unrequited love.
Lastly, you taught me that love fails because if it didn’t, I won't be writing these words for you.