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Lines. Something I shouldn't have had to draw, but nonetheless they were there. I watched as you tore yourself apart with things. A sad face covered by a fake smile. Hoodies being your best friend...even in hot weather. It wasn't like I didn't know you. You've always been in the background of my life until one day you weren't. Our lines somehow crossing over anger and sadness. Meeting in the middle to form some kind of twisted friendship. Each other's emotions being something that was heavily talked about or heavily avoided. The thought of things going further was never in our minds. It still isn't. But somehow there were still weird... lines. Always pushing up against them with comments or innocent touches, but not daring to walk over. Maybe it's because of the mutual loneliness, maybe it's boredom, or even just to put on a show and laugh about it later.
