I knew what I was doing. You were the boy that all the other girls wanted, but you chose me. That didn't mean that they would stop wanting you. So I had to defend my territory if you will, fight off all these women who, if they got too close to you, may make you realize that there are better people out there than me. I knew what I was doing. I gave you everything you wanted, everything you asked for because I was so scared of being alone, and there were nights I went home with your cologne on my skin, and I took a shower crying and trying to scrub the slime of sin from my skin. I knew what I was doing. The moment I felt you start to slip away from my love, I kept asking for more. "Give me some time, and I'll be prettier for you", "I'll be healthy again in a week or so", "promise me you won't flirt with the girls at work". My words didn't stop you. One night as I waited at home for your text saying you were home safely from work, I discovered you had snuck over to her house. And that you didn't want to tell me. You said the only reason why you talked to her was because she got a new number, and you needed it "just in case". She did not get a new number. I knew what I was doing. From the moment I fell for you I knew good and well that I would be the one to get hurt, but that wouldn't be able to stop me from holding on with all my might to this so called, love. But, love is not composed of mistrust and secrets. So, what would you call us?