try, try again.

I wish I knew why I felt sad. I feel like the things you did to me, that they’re public knowledge. It’s as if everyone knows what I endured and so they push me to that point because I have a high threshold for pain. And because I don’t give up easily. Or something equally sadistic. And I feel like all of these things are being used against me. To break me. Somehow, I still am hopeful. But every now and then, I have these expectations that get shot down, and with the intention of being fair, they aren’t huge expectations. It’s just that I feel as if I never receive back the effort that I have put into something. But I don’t stop giving or trying. Maybe I should.