id love to be the nigga to put that lovely smile on your face but you into fuck niggas that dont care to see you frown *shrugs* oh well jackass

But you don’t want me, you don’t want me, nothing could be more obvious; but if after all you do want me, then this wish remains completely hidden by its half heartedness. […] I am wholly yours, you could never have possessed anything so completely, but within this relationship of ours, as it is now and has been for the past weeks, I can no longer be yours, for it cannot be your true self that wants to continue this kind of relationship which merely makes you suffer—for you are certainly not cruel—and in which I feel hounded to death. This is what I still had to tell you.
—  Franz Kafka, from Letters To Felice
After all, we do belong together, there seems to be no doubt about that, but equally there is no doubt that we are immensely different, that you are healthy in every sense of the word, and as a result calm in your innermost being; whereas I am ill, perhaps not so much in the generally accepted sense, but consequently in the worst possible sense of the word, hence I am restive, absentminded, and listless. That’s the way it is, I make you suffer and yet, as you say, you are quite satisfied with me, and you make me suffer and yet I want you to be exactly as you are and not a shade different.
—  Franz Kafka, from Letters To Felice