The other night I said I didn't love you and you didn't love me and it was the perfect match for one night wrapped in each other's dreams. But as I looked through the few old text messages we'd saved. There were hearts from you, lots of compliments and teasing. And oh my god, I think you were in love with me. One night with me was satisfaction to your younger memory. If I would've known I was more than a friend and that you would've had accepted every form of affection that I had, I would've loved you harder (as much as I could for someone who once deeply cared for you).