To be perfectly honest with you, I’m sick and tired of writing depressing love poems. I hate this perpetual stream of pity I feel for myself. I get it, she doesn’t like me back! Is this the end of the world? Is this all there is? Of course not. Does this mean I should give up on love? Of course not. Maybe I’m just delusional, but I want to stop writing sad love poems. I want anything, anything but that.