The reason that I go after people who won’t choose me, Is due to never choosing myself. I don’t see the person that others view; I never have. The failures weigh on me like exhaustion after a day in the sun. I see the people who said they would never leave But they disappeared when I finally pushed them away enough times. I see the ones who cheered me, supported me, and all the while I wondered what qualities they observed. What did they see that I didn’t? I never got past those hours inside an empty bedroom, with four white walls and nothing else. I hear the words of a close friend, telling me that I am a sad and pathetic man. I figured out that my existence to so many people I loved was nothing more than a burden. So I made myself as small as I could, and I never learned to grow to what I wanted to be.