I was waiting for you to tell you I don’t want to talk to you.

I have been waiting all my life for me to fall in love... to painfully realize that I really suck at it.

What was the use of all the daydreaming? Of all the waiting? Yearning... if in the end my ability to love is so helplessly handicapped.

what was the use of my pain, of my loneliness... what was the use of my art, of every wasted breath and word... if in the end… there is someone I love telling me they have been waiting online to tell me they are not going to speak.