Why is it that I love only to have nothing in the end? Maybe that is what’s wrong with me. If I didn’t love, my heart would still be beating instead of being ripped out of my chest. Who cares about me? I am just another man who will live and die. When I do, only a few would mourn my passing if it be a few.

When I die, people will easily move on as they do when they take everything from me. I fought to keep the love inside, but now all I see is darkness and death. Hatred burns and all my tears have dried up. I’ve done nothing but love, and people have used and abused it abandoning me in the end. My reward for loving so damn much, is an empty chest. People do not care as long as they are happy in the end. They would sacrifice my happiness so they could have theirs. I want to be afraid of never loving again, because if I was afraid then I would still love. All I feel now is numb from head to toe. I can barely smile, laugh, cry or speak to people because all I see is someone who would desecrate my life so they could have a penny. I have heard that money is the root to all evil, and that is true. I’ve paid the price for loving, and now I feel the beast in me. Why should I love?