I could talk about how much I like the pain. I could beg for the red that comes with love. You'd love the way I spill my guts for you. You'd love the gruesome shock that comes with being young. The world is against us. I could talk about my anger. You would eat from my hand... love isn't meant to be hard. Not really. You want it to be hard. You want it to mean something. You want to feel something when you read the words. You want to cry over him. You want her words to shatter you. You want to blame it on anybody other than yourself.
You have such a desire to feel pain and sorrow that it totally consumes everything else... How can someone love you when you only want the heartbreak that comes with it?