This is why

This is why I hurt the person I love.

I love him. I want him to love me, too, but it never feels like he does. He can tell me he does, but I discount that -- I hear a tone in his voice, or he doesn't look at me when he says it or he only says it when I ask.

He says I am insatiable. A well that can't be filled. He says that he could say he loves me a million times a day and it still wouldn't be enough. I would still feel empty. I think this is true, because I don't think he really does love me.

It reaches a point, my despair, my pain, my loneliness, when I want to make him FEEL about me. I want him to EXPRESS EMOTION about me. I want to have a connection. An angry one somehow seems to my sad and mixed up -- dysregulated -- mind is better than none. So I pick. And he takes it and I pick harder, and then I'm furious at him taking it and then it gets worse, and worse, and worse and it's a huge fight and I'm screaming get the fuck out, get out get out I never want to see you again.

And this happened for years.

And one day? He got the fuck out.

And now I'm alone, and lonely and can't believe it. I guess he never did love me.