Honestly...

“I love you.”
Can I say this honestly?  Do you?

No.

There is nothing here for me.  There is nothing here for us.  I am just a quick and fleeting cure to your boredom.

We’re both children.  We’re both so naïve.  So insane…

Nobody would believe it if I told this story, in every single detail.  I have felt your hands, your hair, your chest.  I have breathed in your neck, tasted your fingers, told you every word I couldn’t afford to hide anymore.  I have felt that anxiety, that pain… that horrible, lovely pain.  I have looked you in the eye, I have exposed my entire being.  I dared.  I was so bold!  I was so evil – and I loved it!  It made me feel so powerful.  I don’t even care what they say, and I don’t care that you don’t care.  You bring out these terrible, dormant feelings from inside of me.  I have felt you so, so close to me.  I was in your arms, our fingers locked together…

And yet, would those curious, intrigue-hungry, evil monsters ever believe we have successfully kept ourselves apart from each others’ lips?

I can’t believe it.  And I hate it.

Are you just bored?

You make me not believe there is a higher power looking after me.  I have been suspicious of that for a long, long time.  If the answer to all my prayers is “no”, after my entire existence, it actually makes me feel like nobody’s listening.

If I can’t have what I want – ever – can I please, at least, cry?