He's lost count of how many times he has tumbled inside the bathroom with a bleeding hand because he had accidentaly cut his fingers again. 

He's lost count of how many times his back ached because he's been cleaning the dorm all day.

He's lost count of how many burnt marks ha had on his arms because some oils never really cooperate.

He's lost count of how many times he had to make up excuses for a mistake he didn't make. 

He's lost count of how many times he's grown tired but he never rested because they're relying on me to do this. 

And he's also lost count of how many time's he has faked a smile, pretended that he didn't hear it or even told them that I'm fine, you need rest more that I do but he does, he's hurt and he wants to tell them of the sacrifices he does for them but he's also very, very tired. 

He wants to be angry at them but at the end of the day, " I love you anyway. "