In the past, when I was still innocent, I talked about love. You smiled and took him gently. It took me a long time to understand that what you like is ambiguity, and you don't want to see clearly. You and I, some things are from the past but not the past
You and I cannot be called us. Me and you, there is only the past, no past
Then, you told me about your love and the "our" past
My dear, I still can't let you go, but you and I are from the past. There is no 'we' or 'once' between you and me.
My dear, I haven't let go of you yet, but maybe it's not 'you' that I haven't let go of, but the 'once' you mentioned.
My dear, I like you, but I don't dare to say love anymore
My dear, I like you, but the love you talk about, I no longer have the ability to love.
Honey, I love you, but it's only about me