Written on 19 June 2014 at about 3am
I want to like you.
I want you to like me.
But you make it so hard.
I want you to try and understand me.
Try and listen to what I’m saying.
Try and look at yourself too.
I may be the problem.
But you may be too.
I don’t want a medal from you.
Or from anyone.
But I wouldn’t mind some appreciation.
Maybe even a little empathization.
You’re right maybe I’m not trying hard enough.
Or maybe you don’t like my style of trying.
Maybe I shouldn’t even try.
Maybe it’s all useless after all, and at the end of it there will only be emptiness.
I had hoped for more.
Believed for more.
But a heart can only hope for so long.
You make me doubt my ability,
my very own personality.
You make me dislike myself.
And that’s as powerful as someone making you like yourself.
I wish I could say I don’t care.
Throw my arms in the air and say I don’t give a damn, and who are you anyway?
But I can’t.
That would be pretense.
Because I do give a damn.
I do care.
And that’s why it hurts that you seem so keen to disregard,
I know I have my faults.
I know they are many and pronounced.
But do you see no good at all?
Is my good side completely hidden to you?
Can you not see that inside there is good intention?
I can’t do it anymore.
Trying to appease you.
There’s nothing left in me.
I gave everything at the beginning,
I didn’t hold anything back.
Maybe I should have.
But I don’t know how to do half-measures.
I don’t know how to not give arm and leg.
And now, all I have left is emptiness.
I say it again.
I really want to like you.
I really want you to like me.
But you make it so difficult.
So this is me saying I give up.
I wanted so much more,
but I give up.
But now, I give up.
And no one is sorrier about my giving up
than I am.
Yet, you leave me no other option.
Well, maybe another time.
Maybe another time.
Maybe it will be different another time.
I don’t know if it can be.
I don’t know if you want it to be.
But for now,
I give up.