It isn’t any of those things that makes me sad, and what you sometimes call jealous -
though it’s really me being hurt rather than transformed to a green-eyed monster.

What matter so much, is how you DON’T.

How you DON’T look at me that way, or barely at all.
How you DON’T talk to me that much anymore.
Same as it hurts so dearly that you DON’T sincerely smile at my presence anymore.

Those are the little things, that matter so much.