Why do I still love you?
I'm not sure.
You don't actually want me.

If you did

all these excuses of loyalty,  of duty,
Would be reasons why you still talk to her
Reasons for picking up the occasional gallon of milk,
Not reasons for staying.

I'm not interested in being the other woman
So your very presence hurts me.
But you don't understand why.

You want me to have only smiles for you,
Never make you uncomfortable.

I am a person.  I feel.

If you don't want to know my feelings,  why do you ask?

I can only come to this conclusion:

You want to be loved by me.  
You love knowing that I think of you,
Want you,
Dream of you.
But only to the extent that it doesn't inconvenience you.

For you,  I am an accessory.


Don't you know that if you fail to adequately charge your accessories,  the batteries are permanently damaged?  

You are killing my love,  one conversation at a time.