slim pickins

may I propose the argument?
I am a twenty one year young girl living in a world detached and chivalrous in constant search for admiration and affection. Why do some people feel they so much deserve one hundred percent all the time when they only dish out twenty percent of themselves, and with even hesitation.

I lie awake in remorse of the mornings I spent with you by my side.
I cannot hold this memory to my chest anymore.
In another light, I happy to announce I am changing my ideals to something more pleasing to the general.
To redirect the conversation to something more real, I have decided to cut the life line that made my heart feel.
This isn't who I am. this is a difficult passing.