A Hard Belief

It's hard for me to believe that you love me more than the last.
Simply because you loved her first.

I watched the way you looked at her.
Your eyes brightening at the sight,
while mine wandered to yours, painfully turning a stinging red.

Again, I watched the way that you would follow in her wake, 
the way you listened so intently and carefully to her,
even when you weren't the one she spoke to.

Now that you say you love me,
I can't help but think you search for that unreciprocated love from me.