I can't stand the way you look at me when I enter the room.
I'm not a freak. I don't have a third eye. I'm not some sort of disgusting creature... I swear. I hate feeling like my mere existence is a big, dark cloud over the parade of your life... honestly, if that's how you feel, I'm more than happy to leave. I don't really think this mental torment of wondering if you actually love me is quite fair... I shouldn't have to worry about losing you, of all people.
It's hard for me to like myself when I don't even think you do.
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