Stop staying up to talk to me because you feel guilty. You feel guilty for being the one I fell in love with, so somehow you too should carry the burden to lessen my pain. Stop. It doesn't lessen the pain, it only lessens your guilt.
Stop making me feel fat and ugly. Stop making me feel unworthy of love or affection. Stop making me think that I may as well endure this self-indulgent hell than ever hope of loving again.
Stop trying to tell me there is no solution; thousands of people go through this all the time, its called a relationship.
Stop offering to move out, or not go out, or stay with your parents for prolonged periods. You changing your habits won't actually change my feelings, it will just help you by not having to deal with me.
Stop telling me you're not the right person to talk to. As far as I can see, you're the only person to talk to about this problem I have with being in love with my flat mate who also happens to be one of my best friends, and even when its described in detail to someone they'll still tell me that I've made this all up, its all in my head, and I should just get over it already.
Stop telling me to take extra tissues to bed at night, knowing how much weeping I'm likely to do. I wish I could show you the pints of tears that have ripped through my pride and dignity in the last year. I wish I could show you each night that you weren't there to magically sweep me away and talk me off the metaphorical cliff.
You don't love me back. You don't want me, and you probably don't need me either. So please stop feeling sorry for me when I'm breaking down. Please stop offering to have a talk when all I'm going to do is cry at you. Please stop giving me new, varied reasons to cry.
I just want to wallow in my own misery. I want to see how far down the rabbit hole this drug will take me, because I know I have to hit rocks before I can bounce back.
Unless you want to find new improved ways of turning me down, destroying my confidence and staining my pillow, can you please, please, just stop.