They have already told me that I am not in touch with my emotions…
All I knew about you is that I wanted to know more.
I have already tried to do it all and make it work.
You seem to think that I think I’m perfect,
But I am only trying to be it
– I never said it.
The most you can ask of me is to be a better person
– you’ll probably never get it.
For you, love is love, and for all practical purposes,
I don’t love.
Not to mention my respect for you – you think
It’s some kind of feigned joke, a frightening
Farce, fraught with sad ulterior motives and
Hidden, slightly wicked plans.
I am just happy to see you, however I find you.
I do not plan on declaring that you’re perfect,
Like everyone else does.
Why is an inevitable lie such a crucial
Compliment in your eyes?
(I actually believe you are perfect.)
The most you can ask of me, if you will even bless me by bothering with me,
Is to be a better person.