Unfortunate

The things I care about the most always hurt me,
For some reason, though I keep coming back
Maybe I'm a masochist in a twisted way
A painful soul burdened by my ambitions
Trying to change the world in a way that will eventually kill me.
I am fully aware of this pain and cannot ask for a better end.
I deserve much more than I am given, but then that's the way its meant to be at the moment
All I can do is adjust to the un-comfortability as I grow older
Just hoping my mind and my heart doesn't follow suit and grow colder.