He's not my lover; he doesn't care about me -- at least not the way I want him to be. He's more like a brother, but I wanted him to be my lover, again. I have to get tired of settling for crumbles, of trying to maintain a one-sided lover affair.
I am really worth so much more, but I have settled all my life for small fragments of love, little glimpse of intimacy; I polluted my own psyche with images of self-worth crumpled up in someone else's hand, most often in the name of a man.
This is not going to be easy; I am so used, used to running away from myself into the arms of someone that doesn't really want me.
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