Sometimes I wish his posts weren't so vague so that I'd know what's going on, but at the same time he has every right to be that way. He can't let just anyone into his heart, after all. No one really should. But now my overactive imagination is wondering things that are probably just me being far too hopeful for something that will never happen at all.
I'm being silly and a child again.
I love how he writes them like he's talking to me individually. Even if it's not me. Perhaps it's her. Or him. I don't know because I'm not inside his head, but it is insane how Donald Duck never wears pants and no one seems to notice.
VIP are the three letters I wish I could have attached to my name. Maybe then I'd have a chance. I keep thinking that, if nothing else, we could be really good friends because his thoughts seem to echo mine.
At this moment in my life, this is something I'll never know for sure.
I'm just a face in the crowd.
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