Try.

This shit is getting tiring.
It's not even my problem.
Why the fuck do I care so much?
I tell myself it's because i'm afraid for her.
I've been telling myself that for days.

Do I really?
Or am I just selfish and stupid?
This is fucking fire we're playing with here.
and not just embers either.
This is forest fire potential shit.

Saying that she needs to get burned is so cruel.
I don't want it to come to that.
Fucking hell.
I shouldn't even care.
But i can't stop myself.

I dont think its a good idea.
I really don't.
But the hole's a little too deep already.
And there's always a chance that she WON'T get burned.

What the fuck. What the fuck man.
I should be worrying about other shit.
But I'm not.

Tis a most troubling situation.
I don't see the light at the end of tunnel.

I still turn the pages with great interest.
But I can't be just an observer.
Though intervention doesn't exactly seem like it's going to help.
I still turn the fucking pages.
I turn it with fear and trepidation.

Happiness is not getting what you want, but wanting what you got.

I forgot who said that, but it seems like an appropriate quote to insert here.
And if you're reading this.
Note that this applies to both you and me.

Maybe you DO need to get burned.
would it make you feel better if I didn't care?