Why do I continuously torture myself?

You're a jerk, a complete asshole. You're a diva and you brag about sex. I hate you.

But I still really, really like you. I stay up too late just in case you want to complain to me. I encourage you. I ignore my friends. I can't sleep because it makes me sick.

And the worst part is that you will abosolutely never, ever like me. You tell me about different girls, you ask me to tell you how wonderful you are.

What are we, Echo and Narcissus?

Or am I just...nothing? Nothing at all?

If I were to kill myself right now, could anyone trace it back to you? Would you care?

I'd like to pretend you would.

But I know... you don't give a fuck.

So why do I?


Anonymous
12:07:00 AM