it feels so good to feel so bad. it boils over like a pot of rice set on too high heat, and before you can stop it it's made a huge mess all over. But , it feels so good. You know it will pass quickly, maybe that's why you relish in it, let it take over you for those few moments like an emotional demon. You relinquish all good thoughts and respect for cheap emotional highs, how it shakes your foundations. And suddenly, it flies away as quickly as ash on the wind, in the absense of the earlier flames. And you feel foolish and weak, and empty, and life goes on as it did before, as you set about cleaning up the mess of the rice water all over the stove.
Don't give up. I'm only starting to see the gravity of your situation. the extent of your damnation. In short I don't blame you for your frivolous disposition. I blame myself for not being enough to change it. That came out wrong. I can't, nor do I want to, change you. I just wish I was insentive enough to make you wish to change. Or maybe change is non-existant. I want you to grow. You're playing a static and stagnant role whilst I am flourishing and thriving. I know I'm not the same as I was when we were first in love, but the change is amplified relative your inert stance. I've always cared about you, but that too has been altered by the hand of circumstance. I've known countless feelings for you, attachment, love, lust, caring, anguish, concern. I've always felt something for you. Now it's stronger than ever before. No more silly juvenile notions of "love". I care for you like a sister, a mother, a lover, a friend. You say you don...
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