The tree of man was ever silent. Then, twas the Roman. Now, tis I.

I miss you. Miss you so freaking much. And you wanna know what makes this hurt the most? You're right here. You're right here, and you wont even talk to me.

I wonder, sometimes, if I really made the right decision? I could have stayed as I was. I could have stayed at Girls High. If I had, would this have happened? Or, if the situation was reversed... and instead of going to one party, I went to another... I want to know. I want to know if this is right, if this is real, if it'll stay, or go, and when it does, how long do I have? Months? Days? What are you thinking? I need to know what is on your mind. But how do you ask such a question? And, even if I did ask, would you even tell me?

Do I even know you?

My God... do I? I'm not too sure now... I'm starting to doubt everything that I know. Or, rather, have known. A while ago, I suggested that you didn't know me. But, my God, you know me inside and out.

I love you.

Fuck.

Why must I love you?