Think of the worst feeling you've ever felt and multiply that by about 500. That's what it feels to love you. You don't love me back so you don't care at all, but I love you so much and I can't stop thinking about you and I know you don't care. Do you want me to tell you how it feels to love you? Let's say you lit my house on fire, I stayed to collect all the letters and poems I've written for you but never gave to you, and the fire was slowly catching up to me and I was getting burnt and I couldn't breathe but I didn't get out any faster and let the flames engulf me. Or if you threw all my cups and plates and bowls on the floor and broke them all, and I picked up every piece and tried to fix everything you broke while cutting my hands and knees on the broken glass and now I'm going through major blood lose but I need to fix everything. But I'm slowly dying thanks to you, and that was your unknown goal. I would gladly die for you, but I just wish you weren't killing me. Once you feel the millions of paper cuts I got while writing about you and your heart shatters into a million pieces then you can say you understand. But until you experience this dumb, one-sided, unrequited love, don't tell me you understand my pain because you have no idea how much this hurts and you have no idea how much I love you.