I wonder if you ever think about me.
Really think about me, I mean.
If you think about how I treat you, and how I treat you better than most people do.
I know what happened last year.
With Bryan, I mean.
I saw you crying.
I remember the way your mascara dripped down your face.
It was ironic, you hardly ever wear makeup, and the day that you do was the day that...
I should stop talking.
It’s none of my business.