I write this with tears falling from my eyes. How cliché? I write this with clarity. Knowing full well that I am unloveable. I ruin all of my relationships. What am I afraid of? Or perhaps I’m just living proof that love is not real. It truly is a word soaked in honey to attract flies. I’m a fly in the spider’s den. I am alone. Only a drop of paint in the great mosaic of love’s canvas? Really? Is this it? I am never a great love only a footnote. A lesson learned by our great protagonist. Crying changes nothing. Another drop in the endless sea of sorrow, lost hope, depression. I thought I loved but it was only fancy. I thought I was adored but was only a receptacle for what was unwanted. I want to say that I will be strong and perhaps one day I could be. But right now? I drown. I drown and sink. I am through fighting.