I (Don't) Love You

I say that I love him to you so that you don't ask questions because me loving someone else hurts you. 
I don't want to hurt you.
The opposite actually,
but you seem hell bent on hurting me. 
With your stolen looks and nervous smiles.
Nervous because we both know how dangerous this is.
And I don't want to be ruined again.
But after all of this if you ask me to leave him I would.
I realized today as I passed a bakery that I haven't deleted your recorded series.
It's been two years and I haven't cleared your DVR'd shows.
And I remember that our house stank of burnt chocolate every other weekend when you would try to bake,
And I remember that time we thought the cat ran away and you cried until we found him in the laundry basket.
And I stole your aftershave once and broke out because I was allergic. 
And your sheets smell like soap. 
And your favorite color is green.
And your eyes change from hazel to gray when the light hits them a certain way.
Your sofa is broken on the right side from where we jumped on it.
And you look the most beautiful when you lie.
Because I hear four words come out of your mouth as you look at me with those eyes.
And you look more beautiful than ever.