"Give up."
Just two little words that mean so much.
Grown ups used to tell us never to give up.
If we lost, coaches told they were happy that at least we never gave up.
You get it. Basically, we've never supposed to do this... thing. This action, of accepting defeat, of giving in, of settling with what we've been given, even if we aren't satisfied.
But I need to give you up.
Instead of just my love, you're like a drug. I keep coming back to you; I'm addicted. I refuse to leave your side.
And that would be fine. Unless you didn't love me too. Then, it would become pathetic, and show how weak I am.
That's why I'm giving you up. I'm letting go of everything I knew, my safety zone. I'm falling, but instead of landing on soft grass or blankets, I'm plummeting into an arcane pit of dissatisfaction. I don't know why I can't get it through my head that you don't love me too.
So instead of trying to understand, I'm just giving up.
And it feels so good.
