may 7th, 2017
2:16 am
He is uncomfortable. He doesn't want to share.
Communication was key. That's what you had told me. That, we always had to talk. But the key doesn't seem to fit your lock anymore.
You had your 54:23 minutes of talking. I sat there, listening, staying quiet. Scared to make a ever so sound, I silenced the box in my palm.
You spoke of her and of him, two people who'd I'd never meet the standards of. Two people I envied.
He, I understood. Her, I couldn't see why.
For I am not her, and she is not me.
