“If my love is far too huge a thing for your heart to truly hope of ever containing wholly, then give it all back to the world, but never to me; I am not the world, you see.
I am a blood pumping organ, I was born a prisoner meant only to keep giving away too much of what I already have within the sinews of my being.
I am not the world, and never it seems, will I ever be your true love either— you have long ago decided that I can only be your friend if nothing else.
In my love, I can be selfish too; I will take everything— even if what you can only seem to give without any reservations is the kindness I never truly even asked for.”
