In between

I feel sad. It's silly, really, because I realize that I haven't felt just sad in a long long time. It was always sadness mingled with anger, or pain or whatever. But not this time. I just sit and look at him, look at me and it's as if I were watching some kind of TV programme or somebody else's life, as if our words and acts are somehow independant, beyond our control and all I can do is watch as they decide by themselves what to do with my life.
This must be what they call denial.
Is this love? No, it musn't be. It's a may have been love, something that could have happened but never did. And I keep telling myself "if only I had met him later, later"and it's so sad, the way we sit in front of each other, I, knowing that he did love me and that he could still love me but that he doesn't want to, and he, knowing.... well i honestly don't know what he knows-that it's just infatuation, that it couldn't last, that he would not want it to last?