There Once Was Love

He walked in and I felt this burn. Weeks, no, days ago I would have given anything for him to be there. Forever. Now, oddly, I wanted him gone.

But as he stayed, my eyes kept glancing over, and I could almost sense him glancing to me. Not in any way I had prior hoped; his glancing meant nothing, aside from, perhaps, checking to see if I was looking. Of late I've become the boy's ego booster. Knowing he could make my heart flutter so much fueled him in the most bizarre way.

I'd hate to break it to him, but I haven't been fluttering for days now. And yet, here he is, strutting about as if his power over my heart will never stop. How can I blame him? Until this week, I was certain myself it wouldn't. But I woke up one day and it was gone. I can truthfully see him with her and leave the room, with no feelings of upset remorse or bitter sorrow. I walk away just because I can't stand her, not for "stealing" him, but for being her. I'm perfectly okay with my lot now.

But I keep looking, Heaven help me I keep looking.

I noticed, to my horror, that his hair really does suit him. And I've always liked that shirt, and there he goes, talking. Oh, what does he say...

No. I've passed that, I don't care.

There was another direction I wanted to look, another face I wanted to engrave in my mind, but habit kept me turning to him; habit kept me watching, though that place in me that used to crave these moments now stands dusty and barren. There's nothing there that wants him any more, why must I continue to dwell?!

Finally these words apply to me. I used to be the polar opposite, singing along, wishing they fit. At last they do:

"Maybe it's the way we always stay/ when our hearts have gone./
Just because there once was love,/ don't mean a thing,/ don't mean a thing./
Just because there once was love,/ don't mean a thing,/ don't mean a thing./
Just because there once was love.../
But you just can't be here,/ now that my heart has gone."
-Ingrid Michaelson; Once Was Love