In my defense, I won’t say I get off brushing up against girls. I much prefer pretending I am picking them up. That they notice me as much as I notice them. Well, that’s close to true. That they are as interested in me as I am in them; a fact I know is not true. I like to pretend things are so sly no one else picks up on the two of us connecting. Love (or even lust) at first sight. That at some point in between the songs, she will turn to me and speak. It never happens. Not once. Maybe she’s waiting for me to do the same thing. What a thought — we waste our one chance because neither one of us wants to speak. Of course, that right there proves we shouldn’t be together. But it’s a depressing thought nonetheless.
There isn’t enough time or understanding in the world for me to love everyone I want to love.
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