About my love

I question my love most nights. I wonder what is it about me that makes it so hard to love me and what makes it easy to leave me, to hurt me. I'm not asking for an over the top kind of love I'm asking for a simple kind of love. Want me, pick me, choose me. And I know that it just might mean I haven't found Mr. Right but damn these sucker punches are starting to hurt and scars are starting to show. I would like to be able to believe that some of it was real that I wasn't just something to fill your void until she came back to you. Isn't my love real enough for you? Am I not good enough for you? Are my tears and heart ache not real to you? I wonder about my love. 

The End

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