How odd it is that I, who read faces as easily as pages and gauge moods as a matter of course, should always be the one left wondering when I want someone to like me.
It's better, I think. I say it, and I believe it. Lately it's less me and more not me. As though I've finally figured out that it really isn't worth too much hassle. And people who run away are not really worth anything at all, no?
But this time I am less insecure. And for that I am grateful.
It's just that...why aren't the people you wait for ever there when you want them?
It's better, I think. I say it, and I believe it. Lately it's less me and more not me. As though I've finally figured out that it really isn't worth too much hassle. And people who run away are not really worth anything at all, no?
But this time I am less insecure. And for that I am grateful.
It's just that...why aren't the people you wait for ever there when you want them?
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