You Can't See.
4:54 p.m.

He has a place in your diary entries. A large place. A place that I, honestly, could overfill. You worship him; he ignores you. I love you; you can't accept how beautiful I find you to be.

It's not fair.

You're too preoccupied with going out and making new eager lovers fawn over you, that you can't look over in my direction to see the one person who already does. (Love you, that is)

If I didn't love you so damn much--I would hate you.

You say that you want someone who will treat you like a princess. I do. You are my princess, babe.

And I can't let myself hate you.. because 'tis true.. I love you too damn much.

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