"Medication for the kids with no reason to live."

I can't begin to explain my reasoning.
There is none.
Method to my madness? Nope.
You're just not what I want.
But I'm in too deep to turn it around.
I've got to find my way out.
I've never lied about "I love you," more than I am now.
Or maybe I just can't yet.
I can't give love that I don't have.
But you've given me too much to take care of.
I'm trying.
Really, I am.
And that's why I'm still in this.
But everything's too familiar.
You are a cliché.
You're in love with the idea of love. Not me.
I can't see it being serious.
"Denial."
It's a possibility.
I know I can't love you like I loved him.
Not now, not ever.

I don't know what to do.