What makes you mine or I yours? Do I make the mistake you do, of refusing to look beyond the words to acknowledge the actions that may conceivably display caring and maybe occasionally a little affection? Or was it stupid of me to infuse your little actions with more than you meant by them? Why should it hurt more than everything else that it was true, that I was not being melodramatic when I stated that you never considered me family?
There are so many questions I never ask and perhaps more that I am never asked and all for what? I’m not the one living alone, unsure of whom to lean on. I have so much. It really shouldn’t hurt.