You scare me, you really do. What you were saying the other evening wasn’t an act as you so gently put it. Trying to calm my fears and reel me back in, no, you meant it. I know you did and I’m scared.
Just don’t lie to me about caring about me, I’m sick to death of people feeding me that crap, no one cares. No one cares about anyone anymore.
I’ll play your little game and I’ll enjoy it, just stop lying to me. I don’t care that you don’t care, I do care about horse shit being shoved down my throat though, so enough of that. I’m not a child and I’m not so naive. You don’t know me well enough to care about me.
You’re going to hurt me and you’re going to enjoy it. I will too. My question is who’s more twisted? Me, or you?