5000 pages and I can't find an answer

5000 pages. Stack of Psychology books.
I fllip through pages and pages,
memories flash.
You and I.
But not anymore.
I think you don't love me back.
I don't know.
I wish I could.

My nose is runny,
my tears crash and shatter on the pages.

I can't fricking find it,
a 'Love Instructions' chapter.

I left an Engineering degree for this?
I supposed Psychology had the key to life.
I really feel dumb, innocent and immature.
Please, I want math back.
It's hard to understand,
matrices, vectors and hydrostatics,
but at least it's not impossible.

If I believed in God,
I would guess Satan invented Love.

Your lips violently trespass my mind.
Get out of here!
Well, maybe not.
Brain and heart waging a Great War.

Does Love really exist?
If it doesn't, what's the point of living?

All those poets and artists
that were drunk,
writing about finding a partner
but died unloved...
I thought they were rare exceptions.

Were it be true people die not being loved,
truly loved, I mean,
then please, Life, or God, or whoever is up there:
Take me!
TAKE ME!

 Let me die! Please!


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Poem written by me.