Please, if you are going to not love me, could you at least do it for all the wrong reasons? Rejection is bad enough without the sickening knowledge that it's nobody's fault but mine. If I can't have you and I can't change your mind, at least save the dregs of my pride by being wrong.
I don't mind losing you if I can pretend it's because you don't understand me, if I can pretend I didn't already open myself too much for you to bear. But I am always too trusting, or too careless. I know you saw the secret pools, and caught a glimpse of what was lurking there.
Oh yes, you know me. You probably know me too well. But I don't want to admit that I'm the person you seem to know.
Tell me something I can shrug off, tell me something that will let me laugh in your face. Let me wrap up the shards of my ego in the knowledge that you're wrong, you're crazy, you don't know what you're talking about; let me think of you for the rest of my life as the one too dumb to know what he could have had. Make me a gift of your blindness; let me drape it like dark velvet over the harsher truth. I want to burn out the ache of rejection with righteous anger.
Don't tell me it’s the things I always knew, the ones I thought I’d banished or managed to hide. You only saw them because we were so close. I wanted you to shine into my darker depths until the eyeless cavedwelling things went slinking away. But you are right to fear me; I would have dragged you in. I wouldn’t have let you stay hovering at the mouth.
I can't argue with what you're telling me; I know it's true. I suppose I was hoping (naively, dumbly) that you wouldn't notice, that if I stood at a certain angle and kept my elbows off the table and apologized afterwards for the things I do, you might somehow overlook my flaws. If I never believed (and I may never have believed) that you could love the black and swarming depths of me, at least I hoped that if I kept them hidden, I could care for you so fiercely that it would burn the darkness away. But I couldn't even do that much, and now you know all the right reasons I shouldn't be loved.
So lie to me, let me think you got it wrong, let me think you never saw the real me and found it wanting. I will go home with this bullet hole in my heart where your trust and devotion should have been, and I want to patch it with the false belief that I deserved better.