Seeing you happy is all I’ve wanted for you.
And it isn’t that it hurts me, seeing you with her.
It’s the strange, unfamiliar feeling I get when you ask me for advice.
What should I say? Does this seem right? Is she interested?
It feels warped assisting you in building something that could have been ours.
But instead, the focus is on her.
I want to say run, forget this, love me.
But instead I will proofread your witty banter and watch you gain the happiness I’ve wanted for you all along.