Even Though It Was Hard To See

Underneath All That Denial, You're Someone Who's Deeply, Deeply Nice.

I'm Not In Love With You.

I Want To Talk To You And Be Random With You And Be Ridiculous With You.

Why Do We Even Bother? Why Do We Make Ourselves So Open To Such Easy Damage? Is It All Loneliness? Is It All Fear? Or Is It Just To Experience Those Narcotic Moments Of Belonging With Someone Else?

But I Had A Feeling I Wasn't Supposed To Find Her That Way. She Was Not A Needle. This Was Not A Haystack. We Were People, And People Had Ways Of Finding Each Other.