I hate you so much right now. It really isn't your fault. You haven't done anything except, well… make me fall for you. Unwittingly, of course. After all, you were only being yourself.
And I? I guess I was just being myself, too. My usual pathetic, love-hungry self.
Now whose fault was it that this happened?
Why does this always happen to me anyway? It seems nothing has ever been RIGHT for me in the quest for love. I always LOSE. I never get the real thing, and all I can do is simply steal moments to treasure and keep. In the end, all I have are memories. And memories, in time, fade. Particularly when there is no one to share them with.
Sometimes I get so tired of pretending. Of hiding under the guise of friendship, of nonchalance. Of trying to stay away when all I want is to be nearer to you than your own shadow.
I hate you so much right now. Really. But I like you more, and I absolutely HATE that fact.