The funny thing about loving you was that I never felt like myself. Every touch lit my skin on fire only to be put out by the lies of being told you love me. You loved the idea of me. You loved the idea that I would let you do anything to me without expecting anything in return. You loved the idea that I would let you carve out my insides with your fingers just so you could brag to your friends about how good I feel, but you never loved me. You only loved me when you pinned me down against silk sheets and began taking my pants off. You only loved me when you tasted me on your tongue. But you never really loved me. If you really loved me, you wouldn't have left when I started asking if we could start taking things slow. You wouldn't have talked about our future only to leave when I got my hopes up. You were never the person I thought you were, it was merely a mask to hide your true colors. You carved your name into my heart and left me with vague memories we shared together. I gave you all of me, only for you to leave with all of me. Now a new version of me is born, and I will never mistake salt for sugar again.