Of trying, I could literally be sick. I try so hard to talk to you, I try so hard to be there for you, yet I'm forgotten in a moments notice. Forgotten for someone else. Another who could hold your attention. Another who can please you. Well apparently I can't. So I'm done. I'm quitting. I can't sit here and have these feelings stomped on time after time. I love you. But those words mean nothing to you. I care for you. But you can't see it. And even if you could, it wouldn't matter, because you don't love me. You don't care for me. And that is something I just have to accept.
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