“What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want your so called love, or your heart. I don’t want you to take me home to meet your parents. No, what I want from you is your time. Your attention. Your secrets. Your darkest desires. I want to be the one that you come to when you're feeling down, or when you’re angry. I want to be the one to be there when you smile your most genuine smiles, and laugh your most genuine laughs. I want to be the one to be there when you cry. Not because I like to see you sad, but because it would be nice to know that you trusted me that much. I want to be…. I don’t know what I want to be. Your friend? Your confidant? I really don’t know.” 

“I just want to mean something to you. One moment you’re here, and the next you’re gone. One day, we’ll talk for hours, and then we won’t for weeks at a time. You act like I mean something to you, but then you talk to me as if you can’t stand me. I don’t want anything from you but a freaking explanation.” 

“I need to know what I am to you. I need to know because you mean so much to me. I need to know because I seem to care too much, where as you don’t care at all. So what’s the point in me caring, if you don’t? What the point of me getting all worked up and worried if you’re okay or not when you disappear? What the point in me having you on my mind when you don’t ever stop to think about me? What’s the point in me caring if you don’t care at all?”