Sick ; . ;

I've been told I think too much about a lot of things. Perhaps it's true, but it doesn't alter the fact that I can't help myself. I think about things and it tends to make me sick inside; especially when I think about love, romance, and relationships in general. *bluh*

My love for you will never cease
It haunts me now, a dread disease
Gnawing away, my time, my mind
Stop the pain, my soul, I'll sign
The dawn is breaking on my sleepless eyes
This heart, these breaths, filled with sighs
I say, "Perhaps I'll find the cure,"
But my weary heart is still unsure
A minute, a second, the time just slips away
I stall, I pause, screw up the courage to say
Nothing

Post query: why are all the cutest girls -
1) dating someone else
2) not interested in me
3) conspiring against me to make me sick and kill me via ulcer
(I may have made up the last one)