Somethings are unpredictable

Sometimes, i think i'm so good. I always anticipate movements by people, always wary of their thoughts and protecting myself. This is why i don't make friends easily. However, i turn around and realise there's actually already a few knives pointed at my throat. Yet, i think i'm the one pointing the knive at myself. What is all this about ?

Why can't you just lie to me and tell me that you love me?
Even though i know it wouldnt happen but wouldn't it be nice just to hear you say the words.