Till a time I can say that I liked you but never will again

I'll pack you up in a pretty box, put you away in a corner, till time passes and dust collects and maturity lifts my rose-tinted glasses; till naivety gives way to disillusionment; till i can face this with my poker face and find my emotions separate from my memories.

Till a time I can say, perhaps to an unworthy audience, that I loved* liked you but never will again.

-part of anru's entry that speaks my mind

*it's ostensible. apparently when it comes to relationships among people, love only exists among family members and friends who are like family members. anru, sorry to say that i disagree with you on this. =x