Nothing will ever change the truth: You don’t love me. You never did and you never will.
It’s all a complete lie that I created to hide from the miserable hell that I am in. It’s a lie I chose to believe in, overtime, I practically thought it was real. I am trapped inside a web of fabricated delusion, a false reality that I tried to repudiate for years.
I kept holding on to something that was never there. I had faith and it blinded me. It clouded my judgment. It ruined me because I thought I could change it. I thought that if I keep believing, then maybe, somehow, it could be real; that maybe, you could love me too. Because I love you so much. I love you more than any person could love another. I love you more than love itself and I want you to see that. I just want you to see me.
I am so lonely, deep, deep down, in my troubled heart. I am so lonely, because my heart wants something that you can never give: a piece of your heart. Just a little space in your heart would be enough to console my longing. I am not happy. I was never happy, knowing that I could never have you, knowing that the only reason you stay is because you need me; you don’t have a choice; I am just someone you need to get you where you want to go, and my role ends there.
Is it wrong to love somebody this much?