I can never make you love me no matter what I say or do. Disappointments seem to be the foundation of my progress. I’m gradually beginning to realise that success is a slow process. I dislike how you tend to forget about me during some nights when you’re drinking wine. I gave you honesty and honestly speaking, going back-and-forth with you is exhausting me. Over the years, our friendship has been tainted by rumours that everyone knows except for us. There may have been some chemistry between us that we both chose to blatantly ignore. I wrote many of my poems in Braille for the kind of love I was desperately longing to feel from you. I’m still falling for you, and my words are revealing so that’s why you’ll know that this poem is about you. I find it hard walking away from a woman whose arms I have always wanted to run into. What should I do now with the love that I have always wanted to give to you? All I’m asking for is you, and I can’t bear the thought of someone else being next to you. I’m jealous and I know that I will probably be the last one to ever admit it. I’m a lover without a lover but never loveless, so what am I supposed to do?