I know why you kissed me. Because you were filling a void, of missing her. Because I was easy to fill that void with, since you knew I was very interested in you. You’ve intrigued me since the moment I met you. The way your mind works, the photographs you take, your mystery that surrounds you. I spend hours thinking if there was still some part of you that was actually beginning to feel again, and to feel something with me, someone new, because why would you tell me I’m beautiful and all that shit. I know I’m wasting my time trying to figure out an excuse for your bullshit, but I also believe in love, and like I told you once, the want to be with you is greater than my fear of being with you.