I talk myself out of having feelings for you every night.
I make a long list of how under-qualified I am to be yours.
My weaknesses far outweigh my strengths.  
It’s like someone with just a high school diploma applying to be a doctor.
I am severely unmotivated,
Terrible with finances,
And I do not work well under pressure.
Apply any pressure at all and I break.
You’re different.
You have accomplished so much in your 30something years.
Career.
Family.
Faith.
And you did it all on your own.
Then there’s me,
I don’t have anything to show for my 25years that I’ve existed.
I have books and movies to escape.
I read and watch life happen rather than live it myself.
Journals and papers filled with all my useless emotions and “experiences.”
Tear stained pages to remind me of all my heartbreak.
I have clothes that make me feel like I’m a woman.
Even though I’m a poor excuse for one.
I have makeup of all colors and finishes.
The only talent that I have.
Useless.
Not only do I have nothing to offer you,
I have nothing to offer anyone.  
But although I know all this is true,
I will still anxiously wait for you tomorrow.
I will still daydream about the conversations we will never have.
I will hope during the day,
And break my heart every night.