Why can't I be loved like her, the same way as her or him and her? Why is loving you expensive? It costs my heart and soul. Even my happiness and peace must pay their way. Paying the bills that were not supposed to be there. 

I'm still as pretty as her. I wear the same heels, and even if I step on the wrong shit, I do pick myself up. I still keep it in check, even if I have to run 25 kilometres extra to be in shape.

You are my home; I'm your only one. But why does she have a room in your heart? Ah, my...