Okay, I get it, you can’t care more than you can care. I’ve observed this restraint in you, during our elongated time together. You always had love in your eyes but your body spoke a different language. It’s like a part you tries not to show what’s in your heart. Maybe you think it’s a weakness. I remember when I’d kiss you on the forehead and you’d wonder what it was all for. To me it was a deep show of affection, a blessing of sort. But to you it was extravagant. A normal kiss will do. I tried to explain to you how every kiss meant something different, but I’m sure to you my explanation was writer’s exuberance. Thinking back, I think I loved you too hard for nothing. You just didn’t understand my love. Or maybe you don’t understand love at all. You don’t understand what it means to place my forehead on yours. The forehead is like the seat of the mind, and placing mine on yours meant that I wanted our minds to bond on a mind-blowing level. Do you even know about the mind’s eye? I tried to educate you once but you blew it off. Exuberance, right?