I can't keep up.

I can.

And you know what's the thing that hurts most?

It's not knowing that I can't help, or knowing that I didn't help.

It's wanting to help, it's helping, and realizing along the way...

you don't want to be helped.

And all the times that I was nice to you, when I made an effort to smile, when I tried to be there for you, because I cared (I care) as a friend... it's all useless and stupid and dumb on my part.

Sometimes I wonder if you just treat me as a doll to flirt with. I'm easy target. I know this.

At least I make you happy this way?

And all the people that I didn't pay attention to comes to my mind. And I'm so sorry. I'm sorry.

I wonder if I should have even paid attention to you.

You drag me down. You wear me down so so so so much.

And you don't even know it.

And I'll never say.