amphibology

I heard what I wanted
whether it was there to hear.
I no longer know
if you ever held me dear.
I parse each phrase then spoken
for some amphibology,
any way that I can read it
where the answer would be "me."
Like a prospector for gold
I sifted and I sorted
hoping that each "maybe"
to a "yes" could be contorted.
I think I thought, I know I knew -
now every kiss is suspect,
each embrace we shared I question,
every moment double-checked.
He loved me or he loved me not?
I pluck each petal hoping,
I shake my magic eight-ball.
You left, and now I'm coping.
The days will pass and so will this
but I think I'll always wonder
if you ever really loved me
or if I was just a blunder.