You're never going to read this.

How do I know? Because life has violently taught me that you, the concept and idea of somebody loving me, Sam, don't exist. I once was foolish enough to think that it was possible, but ever since I had my heart ripped out the first time, love has failed my every attempt. I've sought it with 3 people in the past 2 years, and with 2 of them I find nothing, and I was forcefully rejected with the third.

This isn't saying that I don't believe in the concept of love. I know it's a real thing that beautifully exists between some people..... but it just doesn't exist for me, specifically.

You may be thinking, if you TRULY DO exist, that I'm giving up too easily; that 4 failed attempts in a lifetime isn't enough reason to raise my hands and surrender... but my heart can't take any more beatings. My heart has given its all so many times, that I'm afraid I'll strike out. I joke with my friends that I'm so full of hatred, that I'd given up on love already, yet I know that love has left some residue on me, because I can still care deeply for my friends; feigning affection to the point where some people are convinced that I'm returning the favor of, "love."

But the truth is that deep caring is as far as I want to get, anymore. I don't want to fail yet again, and go deeper into hatred to the point where even caring doesn't exist.