I figured it out. Why I  love you so much and why I hate myself for it. I really am disgusted at how I let you treat me. Last time we broke up it cut me deep, I didn't get over you for a long time. I cried myself to sleep for well over 2 months. You ripped my heart out and left me empty. True, I moved along to other things, other people, but you were always there. You were hiding in the hole where my heart used to be. You put me through hell and then just when I was getting used to being without you, you decide that you want to see me again. You get close to me, you let me kiss you, you kiss me back and pretend that it means something  to you. You let me start loving you again and for a while things are good, you tell me that the world makes sense now and things feel right. ****, I just can't resist those beautiful lies, so I believe you and I let my guard down. Bad idea, just when I get brave enough to trust you with things I can't tell anyone else you run away. You can't be with someone so far away. I'm too damaged, you can't fix me so why waste anymore time on me. So you stop caring altogether. I accept that you won't be mine, I try to be just your friend but, every time I talk to you you act like I'm keeping you from so much more important things. So I stop talking. I think of you and sit silent. And that's when it happens. . . inspiration. I write. And that's why I can love you and hate you at the same time. I hate you because of what you put me through, and I love you because what you put me through gives me the insight to create. You're my muse. Anything I've ever created that was worth being created was inspired by you. So, I'm going to keep loving, you'll never be able to stop that. And when I write my first play/novel/book of poetry I'll make sure to send you the very first copy, make sure you read the dedication, "To my beloved muse, thank you for shattering my heart and letting what was inside of me out"