the things you do, the way you act, the seemingly nice things you say — how could you not?
other times, i wonder if you even have a soul.
the way you can't handle life, the way you run from anything you feel, the way you make yourself so unavailable.
but at the end of the day, no matter how cruel you can be, i know you're only human. the life you seem to enjoy so much is generally a facade.
it's a small, pretty little picture you've created to fit into a small, ornate frame you can share with people.
but it isn't the truth.
and it isn't even a piece of the truth.
it's a jumble of lies; it's make-believe.
it wasn't all make-believe, right? i have to believe at some point it became make-believe, that it didn't start out that way. maybe that's just me lying to me though.
but after the way you treated me the other day, after the way you helped me ... i have to believe there's more to you than everyone cries about.
my sanity sorta requires it.
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