I used to wait hours for a reply that took him seconds to send.
And somehow, I convinced myself that his silence was my fault.
I liked him in a way that made me check my phone even when it didn't buzz.
I reread his messages like they held more than they did.
I created love stories out of "wyd?" and called it affection.
He never said he loved me.
He barely said goodnight.
But I gave him the kind of loyalty people pray for.
Maybe it wasn't that he didn't care.
Maybe I just cared way too much.