I wrote all of it, hoping for...something I don't know, something I want back but I don't know what that is because I'm unsure of what I actually had.
All of it has been worthless in comparison to the effort and pain though, the words, the feelings, all which I gave. You don't throw out that effort, or perhaps you do. If they were worth what they felt they were, perhaps I'd know what I had. You were my life. It was probably wrong of me to think I could ever be a part of your life, but I hoped too. I never took your effort for anything other than feeling your dedication.
I don't understand.
I think that may be it. I don't understand any of it. I don't know it. I never knew it. If I cannot understand my own emotions, how can I ever understand yours? If I never knew, and know how to hold a person, why should I expect them to hold back?
The cruelest thing is letting the person who doesn't know think he actually knew.
-10