Dear cartoon crush

I've never had a diary.
I don't have much going on, you see.

But I need someone to listen.
That's why I bought you.
If someone else would listen,
they'd just scold me, that's what people do.

Every day, on forums I fight.
I'm happy, yet filled with pain.
My heart tells me that it's alright,
but my brain tells me I'm insane.

It gets worse, as I'm feeding myself lies.
And someday, when a good man hears my cries,
I'll turn him away, he won't be like him.
He won't exist out of pencil and ink.

Just why do I give myself these restrictions?
Why can't I steer real people with my fanfictions?
The sadness grows bigger in my eyes.
I'm old, so why am I not wise?