RealitySucksDarling
Though we never met before. Everything about her screams that I do. That her smooth skin has been under my touch, cold blue eyes have cried in front of me, lips ajar and sweet blissful moans echoing, her eyebrows raised up in confusion, hair being pushed aside, hands flying everywhere when she's mad, or her accent screaming at how much she fucking hates me or how much she fucking loves me.
Though she's a stranger in front of my eyes, I feel like I know her.
I feel like I know her story, why no one can tell if she's lying or desperately falling apart. Why she smokes, how she dances gracefully, why profanity leaves her mouth. I feel like I understand the reason she hates to date, loves to hurt people, craves the attention.
Yet I'm standing fifteen feet away without a name of this gorgeous creature. Even though her vibe screams that I know exactly who she is.