You were a mess,
but I loved you.
I left,
but I loved you still.

You went through denial,
anger and shock,
bereavement,
acceptance of blame.
I loved you still,
just the same.

In your pain, I saw
how hard you were trying
to work your way through your loss,
to know yourself with more depth.
I was impressed.

Now that I see how you love me,
how could I love you less