The Art of Robbery

I was robbed,
and expected to be fine.
Nothing I can do, but stand and wonder.
It's not fair
that conscious decisions were made.
Now promises mean nothing,
even between a couple of friends.

"You are not alone in this,
As brothers we will stand,
and will hold your hand."
Is what gets me by these days.
Turning back to bad habits,
no clue of what is ahead.

I was robbed, recently.
Robbed of the girl I loved, and still do.
Now my heart stumbles to find truth in lies,
or anything I don't know.
It's not fair, is it ever?

The kiss in the hall, the small peck, that was the last.
Now I know even the best things can be cursed.
That night, the night you tried to hide.
I hope he held you like you deserved.
I hope you felt the rush, then realized what you had done.

Tell me now, where's my fault?
I must rise on my two feet, and gather myself.
I will bring myself to forgiving,
but just know that you lost me,
forget the promises and day dreams, it turned to shit the moment you groaned.
You wasted eight months,
you wasted my attempts to make you smile, that's all I wanted.

Tell me, where was my fault, in loving you?