Bipolarly

I know my best will never be good enough.  I will always fall into that same trap of living so wholeheartedly for someone, of trying so hard to please, only to disappoint beyond repair at any small slip of imperfection. Was I born to be this way?  Surely not.  And yet, this is me.  Lovable, but only to a certain degree.  I have terrible flaws in personality, in character.  But I also have scars.  Scars of being hurt, of being scared.  Of giving everything and losing so miserably despite of it.  That's why love hurts.  It is never enough.