It's not like I care, really.
I don't think of you every day. Not at all. It's not like I'd love to share every little thing with you either.
I don't think of you riding the tube with me, talking about everything and nothing. I don't get all nostalgic about holding hands on the street. Or laughing together walking on the shore. 
I don't get all excited about reading my favourite book to you, or listen to music while we lay down in bed.
And I absolutely don't miss you every day. I don't crave your lips every hour. Your eyes every minute. I don't desire you every single second.
I really don't.

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