even as you look at her, i will look to you. even as you wait for her, i will wait for you. you've told me that sometimes i have the right to be selfish with my feelings. but how can i do so if i want to be selfish with you?
we are a bittersweet tragedy. where your feelings for me have grown void, i cannot but begin to fill that emptiness with my own, hoping for a dead flower to bloom. perhaps we were never meant to be. maybe we run next to each other, only parallel and unable to intersect.
perhaps i am too late, as only now i notice you look at her the way you used to look at me.
