Perhaps, I really don’t

Perhaps I did not really want you, or love you. Who wanted a kind like you when was not sure in love or not? But I have you now. And it is easy to make you feel I don’t love you, when I lose my temper every time things are out of control. And how can you call that love? I suppose love does not know famine nor hard time nor tired-ness nor control. Love is love. No matter what. So, tell me – how can I admit I love you but … .. And, there is no but in love. Love is supposed to be unconditional, right? 


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