And his stupid pillow mouth rips at the seams of my resolve not to love him how I worry I always will, and my mind falls through an infinity of memories I've had with him and thought I'd have with him and worry I won't ever have with him again.
I'll hurt her, she'll hurt me, I'll do something back, she'll do something worse it's just how we are now. And I wish I could stop it, but it's like we're stuck on a fucking track. At least we're on the track together, I guess.
We walk down the street in silence, and it's my favourite night I've had since the one in the club with her. Neither of these should be my favourite nights, I know that. But she shouldn't be my favourite person anymore and she still is, so...