And I can count the number of times on my worn out hand.
This is beyond the point of frustration.
Beyond the point of masochism.
In no just world should someone like Me
be allowed to fall for someone like You.
In no version of the universe where fairness exists
should we be so perfect for each other in every Other way.
Our first years reduced to on again off again status
because 'you weren't ready'.
And then Finally. Finally.
After almost three years that I don't know How I survived.
And there I was expecting that to be the breaking point.
That from then on we'd be like my first;
clothing shed the Second we were alone
(and sometimes when we weren't).
But no, back to my seclusion.
After that first time, a week.
Then a month.
I fairly howl in rage when you say I could be more assertive;
if I took the initiative, yes, you would give me what I want.
But that's the problem, isn't it;
you're Giving, as a favor, as a courtesy.
You try to deny it yet you sneer in disgust at the slightest mention of the topic!
And I've grown tired of the arguments.
I've grown tired of you telling me I'm wrong
while your every action screams that I'm Right.
And honestly, while I still love you,
while I'll always love you,
while we'll be together forever,
your lack of desire has caused my overactive lust
to start to desert you.