I know you're not talking to me, but still it hurts. Maybe it's just my conscience. Or maybe the connection really does exsist. As many times I gross myself out I do now really scare myself. Fact is, you made me cry.
The lady in question sounds like someone I could really like, or fight. She's probably someone I would admire, and she in turn would look up to me too, or down on me too, whatever the case.
No matter how you look at it, it will cast you into a lifetime of pain, frustration, and an unhealthy loving. As if anything could be any different. You know it can't.
And I'm only glad you're not talking to me.
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