i think

i've reached my capacity of making things better, not my limit to do more, but to any extent of effectiveness. im just old news by now. i'm routine and probably getting less interesting by the day.

not that i am unwilling, but rather inadequate.

i dont know.

deja vu.

i tell myself not to give up but i get no where and things stay the same.

i doubt that i am making you as happy as you deserve.

and i feel like i'm sure someone new will make you happier. i love your smile but it doesn't shine on me anymore.

i'm trying, i promise. i've been trying.

i'm sorry.