Grasping

Remember when we first starting dating and you told me you couldn't get me off your mind? And you tried so hard and sent sweet text messages with hearts at the end of every one? And yes, we've had our differences. You've cried, and so have I. Those moments and nights we shared where I felt more than in love, I can't recall all, but they mean so much. Every good night kiss means more than you'll understand--ever. And yet every time you called me beautiful, the hundreds, mean so little now. I feel so ugly when we speak. You still call me beautiful and I always seem to disagree. I do disagree, though. You tell me you care but there's no love?



Maybe I'm stupid.
And ugly.
And scared.
And tired.
And I'm not saying everything I should say,
but I'm trying to cope--still.