We sat there in silence; you stroked my fingers with your fingertips.
You pulled my hand up to your mouth and kissed it softly once, twice, three times.

I thought, "Why the hell be so nice when you're doing the shittiest thing in the world?"

You thought, "I want to cushion the hurt just a little..."

A whole mess of things ran through my head. Maybe this wouldn't last long; maybe I could hate you. Maybe we really could be the best of friends; maybe our friendship really could be stronger.

Perhaps I'd find someone to make me feel good about myself.

I bawled into your shoulder a bit and you kissed my neck; probably the most sensitive kiss I have ever experienced in my life (funny, coming from you).

I wish I could have known what you were thinking.

I suddenly felt as though I was in the presence of a stranger. The feeling hasn't gone away.

I never cried after that.

...until right now.

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