What consequence have I overlooked?
She wasn’t as mad as I was.
Only I was madly in love,
and she was never even.
It didn’t matter to her.
It never did matter to her.
She loved someone else.
She always did.
I, to her, will always be somebody—
a someone,
and never the one.
I loved her.
I truly did.
Oh! But I was mere nobody to her,
a no one—
and I never wanted anyone else
but her.
It’s just one life, right?
What could a single life even be worth?
She never loved me anyway.
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