You're like a good book I can't stop thinking about you I want to get to know all of you You're mysterious You're wonderful Your existence seriously affects the way I exist but my existence doesn't affect yours at all
It's a simple question. One I'm sure we've all asked. Maybe not out loud, or even consciously but it's still there. A deafening scream, and a chilling silence. The emptiness of an unanswered question. How could I possibly love somebody else, if I can't love myself.