I love you.
I mean not just you.
I love a lot of people, a lot of things, concepts, etc.
But anyway.
I love you.
Notice I'm not saying I'm in love with you, because that's different.

And I realize and I know.
Not many people feel it like me.
Some days I think my purpose is to give as much as I can and get nothing in return.
I am simply made to feel empty and alone, no matter what.
That's no one's fault but my own.

See, if I could help it, I wouldn't love you.
My love, my affection, my thoughts, my feelings, ****, even my presence is wasted on you.
You couldn't care less what or where I am.
Who I'm  with, who I'm *******, what I feel.
But, I can't hate you for giving me feelings.

It's not YOUR fault I'm like this.
I know I know I know.
But it doesn't help that you nurture my feelings.
When you touch me like you might care.
Like holding my hand in dark rooms. Like kissing me softly.
But you don't care. At least not sober.

I am constantly bending over backwards for anyone.
Even a stranger.
I want to make everyone happy.
I want to help people.
But I can never do it for myself.