one two three four

tell me that you love me more.
chances, chances, chances. it's a crime to be given so many and not take one.
am i insecure? god, i hope not.
you are so anticlimactic. you've given me so many chances to figure you out, and i blindly walked into your arms.
today, i think i figured you out for good. i'll say it again. you are so anticlimactic.
and it bothers me.
and it hurts me.
and it scares me.
one, two, three, four.
i still want you.
tell me that you love me more. even though you don't and never will mean it, because i am and will always be blind to your sarcasm.