I still remember the day when I told you I loved you, and you didn’t say it back. And I still ask myself why that was. So much of me wants to be grateful for the fact that you were kind enough not to tell me something that you didn’t mean–and I am. But I can’t not wonder what it was that made it so that you didn’t feel the same way. Sometimes I tell myself that I just reminded you too much of you, and it was harder to love me for that reason. Other times I tell myself it’s because of the way you liked my twin first, and so there was just no way that you’d slide into feelings for me so soon. What I really needed to know back then, those words that you wouldn’t tell me: What did I do wrong?