I’m never satisfied. I will leech off of you until you are an empty vessel of compassion and I am full of apathy. You will give me everything and I will willingly take it knowing that I won’t love you anymore. I feed off of my interest like a self sustaining *****, not knowing what to do with myself at times. I’m not going to tell you I’m sorry. Because I’m not. It’s you who should be sorry for yourself.