You expressed I love you in a poem. Six months later you took it back. Accused of manipulation, I respond in kind. The lack of eye contact should have been a warning sign. Pouring my insecurities and shadows into your lap, little did I know they were being weaponized. Saved for an opportune moment, to unleash the rage of all times. Attacking a fly with a grenade, clearly there was something amiss in your promise. Maybe it had to do with the omission of the word if.
I love you if you do not confront my insecurities; I love you if you do not challenge my ego; I love you if you constantly show me the reflection of my own masks in your eyes. Is that what you meant to write?
Blame me, blame a community, blame the style of relationship. Blame anything except your own wounded pride.
For the sake of the next one, please don’t forget the if.