I don’t know anything about love.
I didn’t create it nor know how to exemplify it well.
I’m a terrible person. I have anger, impurity, and darkness in my heart.
I don’t know why she loves me.
I try to make sense of it, but often find myself on the verge of tearing up.
"Why do you love me?"
I’m loud, obnoxious, rude, and often prideful.
I’m that kid with the opinion that pisses everybody off.
I’m an asshole.
I don’t deserve your love.
The only entitlement I feel is to being alone.
You’re pulling a different person out of me.