that unsettling feeling that is not enough to fathom because the words always get in the way, the very thought of ending things... because no matter what happens, no matter how you explain yourself, no matter how much you have the urge to let them understand from your point of view
they never really do. no one but myself. it's only me who'll get exactly what i'm going through, if i seeked for help i'd eventually get nothing despite the helpful advices and encouraging words. i hate that i give so much love, i love people too much... but in the end, no one reciprocates what i give. then again, i thought i must think of my love as agape. to give and give and expect nothing in return. i guess i'll just think of it that way.