Truth is a sad reality.
When it finally comes to you after years of denial.
I can't love. I'll never be able to love.
I see that now.
I've fucked up every relationship I've ever had
from my insecurities.
Born under a bad sign, broken home, not wanted at birth.
How did I make it this far?
I'm mean and cruel.
Why do I even try to love.
It's not for me.
It's for those others I see holding hands, trusting, sharing.
For me, to love, I must be bored.
And God, she never bored me once.