You're not mine. But, then again, I don't ever think that you were meant to be mine. I have my own. All you were was a fantastic fansy, that sat with me that day. You're hers. And I'm not surprised in the slightest. But, you have yours. And I have mine. I can't help, though, but be slightly sad. I've lost the race. I'm not used to loosing. But we're from two different scales. And you were never meant to be mine.