Used to be.

I saw you with her today.
She is pretty.
She is nice.
I know I shouldn't be,
but I am.
I'm happy.
Not for you,
but for her.
Because I know
she has a great guy.
But my happiness for her can't cover up
the true pain I feel,
seeing them together.
He really likes her,
I can tell.
I can't help but cry a little
because not to long ago
the way you look at her
was the way you looked at
me...