Lonely Nights and Lonely Hearts

So I wrote the first three stanzas a few weeks ago and then I added the last two recently, so I feel like this poem has two different tones but maybe it's only me who can tell, I don't know.
EDIT: Ok so the more I read this, the more I feel like the last two stanzas just completely ruin the entire poem someone please tell me I'm wrong this is very distressing

Some nights,

I'll lie awake in bed,

thinking about my favourite fictional couples

who all seem to have a forever love – 

a love that can transcend time and space.

A love so deep,

that there is never any doubt

soulmates exist.

 

And even though I know

that these love stories

are just that,

I still catch myself wishing,

someone would love me

the same.

Because my heart aches

in its loneliness.

 

And I am so afraid,

that I am unlovable.

Afraid that no one will ever

wrap me in their arms,

in our sleep.

Or smile at me,

simply because

I am here.

 

And isn't that

what everyone fears?

Facing death

after a life spent

counting those forsaken nights;

as if our destinies are uncontrollable 

unless we can intertwine them

with one another.

 

Some nights,

that bone-deep ache terrifies me.

That's when I wish

on pixie dust, birthday candles, and shooting stars,

for every bit of love

in the world.

Because we're all just lonely hearts

and lonely souls.

The End

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