I grow so wary of my secretive soul; of all the lies I hold inside. I wish I could say "I wonder why it is I just can't be open and honest with you" however I do know, I'm just not willing to change. I'm altruistic to a fault. 

  So you'll never know that I'm falling in love with my best friend. That the only reason we're even together anymore is because of what he does for us; that he's all that's missing between you and I and that what he offers far outweighs the scraps you toss in my general direction. 

  You'll never know that I resent you and your selfishness. That the hours spent awake at your side late at night are spent longing for more than you can offer. Because you're just so ingorant. Because I sacrifice so much for you and you do nothing but complain as I stand before you with sympathy for your woes despite your lack of awareness for mine.

  You'll never know that for every ounce of my being that still somehow loves you there's an equal amount of hatred in addition to the animosity I feel for you that emminates from my being.

  You'll never know that you mean nothing more to me now than the horrid memories you have etched into my soul.