I didn't. I didn't know I was in love with you when we were together. I knew I liked your smile and the way you said my name. How you wrote me poetry and mailed it in the post like we were living in a modern renaissance. You made my stomach feel like a garden; butterflies fluttering on rose petals and lilacs. I knew those were the signs, but I didn't know it was love.
I didn't know it was love when my heart pounded out of my chest to connect to yours. I didn't know I loved you until you wrote me my last poem.
Until your lips whispered your last spell against mine.
Until you ran away without goodbye.
And that's when I knew. When my soul left my body in attempts to find yours. I knew I was in love when I realized I'd only find you in my dreams.
I knew I was in love with you after you broke my heart.
I love you.
Now I know.
But it's too late.