I can't love you for who I am.

We were just a dream. A fantasy. Nothing more.
Nine months of strained affection.
No connection.
A recollection of "love" I've faced before.

I don't regret. I won't forget
Our memories when we had let
Our hearts be filled with false emotion;
A hope for perseverance through strong devotion.

In vain, I delved for answers, searched for hope.
Our passion, diminishing, we needed a rope.
In desperation, I turned to God.
Begged in selfishness for a change of hearts.

The "I love you's" had become insecure.
Did we love each other? Or who we thought we were?
We wouldn't make it. We couldn't last.
The excitement had finally come and passed.

The pain is real, and I'm starting to feel
my happiness the devil's trying to steal.
Ambivalent feelings. Love. Pain. Jealousy. Hate.
But we were meant to love. This wasn't fate.

And I opened my eyes. I realized.
Swallowed my injured pride, and cut myself down to size.
I can't love you for who I am.
But for who He is.