I never tried hard enough for you.
I'm sorry about February.
2004.
The fourteenth.
You mean everything to me.
I would die for you.
I would live for you.
And I survive for you.
I love you.
What else is there to say?
I could say that I'm dying inside whenever I'm not with you.
But where would that get me?
I could say that you keep me alive.
But where woul that get me?
In fact, where would telling you that
I
Love
You
get me?
Nowhere.
Which is why you don't know.
And I lay here, bleeding.