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. 

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