Misguided Attempts at Conversation

I hate that I gave so many parts of myself away like they were cheap knock off jewelry to all the wrong person who didn't deserve to see me so exposed and vulnerable. I hate having been told "I love you" so many times by people that wanted nothing more than my shadow to keep them company for a night or two. I hate that I said "I love you back" for fear of being forgotten like the crumbling embers of a fire that didn't quite burn as brightly as it could have. I feel hollow inside and the skin you see and touch and feel is that of an imposter I fear you may soon find out I'm not who I say I am. I fear you will see that behind my frailing limbs and panicked lips there is no substance, there is no soul. I'm afraid of being alive and I'm afraid of dying young and being forgotten. Then I will have become a shadow. The passing moments that trickle down walls and slide into cracks as the sun goes down. I fear that I may never be loved.