"Please say you love me back. Please."

You're a little shocked she had said anything at all, but the second those words left her mouth, you already knew you were going to hurt her. She isn't the only variable anymore, it's no longer an equation with two terms, you added a third.

It's not as simple as solving for x (which isn't so simple at all), now you have to solve for y too.

She and he were always better at math than you. Once the letters come along with the numbers you get too confused.

You're good at the important math, though, and maybe that's better. You can add the words and make the phrase. You don't need help with that.

He doesn't either, he said it after a month, but you pretended not to hear. But when one month turned to two and then to four, and he just kept adding the words together, you found you had to say it.

You think that's the only time you failed the important math.

She always needed help. When letters formed words she could never solve the equation quite right. You always tried to help, but she never understood.

You always pretended the equation never made sense, but you got the answer, every time.

So when she finally got the problem right and put it all on the line, for you, you were shocked. But you already said it to him, even though she was always more important. You couldn't hurt him like she hurt you.

You solved for x, but you got the value for y.

If only she had gotten a tutor sooner, maybe she would have solved the equation faster. But she was slow and he was faster, so he got the answer faster.

It's a simple equation, but she was too stubborn to see it.

She just couldn't say I and love and you. Not the right way, anyhow.

It was simple, but she missed it.

You already chose him.

You couldn't go back.

But before you broke her, (and yourself) you had to say it.

I and love and you.

The simplest equation of all.