Love is something I don't understand.
Hell, I don't think anyone does.
When you say "I love you."
And they say "Don't."
How do you expect me to change
The way I feel about you
It's not much of a choice.
If I could change the way I feel
I would be happy.
And not just a façade,
Not a way to mask the pain on the inside.
Really, genuinely happy.

Everyone asks for advice
And never takes it
They leave you confused saying "What's the point?"
"Why do I try?"
Even when you know it's for the better,
You find yourself saying, "Just one more time."
"I can handle it."
No you can't.
And I'm not giving you advice,
Asking you to change.
I'm smarter than that.
I know you won't.
Because I didn't.

We find our hearts
Stuck behind a door that
If locked was only done so by us.
Protecting against the outside forces
Bombarding each other to enter.
Friends. Family. Boyfriends. Girlfriends.
How else do we protect ourselves from the hurt.
It's inevitable.
You can't really escape it.
Between all the "I told you so"'s
"Just stop loving them."
But how do you expect me to do that?
Are you saying that you, yourself
Could stop having a hand to hold
A shoulder to cry on
Someone to love
When you feel as if there is no one else.
How do you stop revolving around them
As if they are the sun
And you are merely Earth
Until you are Mars, Saturn, and then Pluto.
Until you are so far out of their solar system
That you are discovering an alien life force
Also known as depression.

How do you expect me
To do the impossible.
Don't tell me "Nothing is impossible"
If that were true,
We'd be amongst the formerly dead
Instead of just being dead on the inside.
We're not wasting away in graveyards.
We're wasting away in plain sight,
A fake smile plastered to our faces saying,
"Yeah, I'm alright."
Our insides screaming,
"Get me out of here."
A room full of therapists listening.
But no one understands you.
That must be what it feels like to be love.