Nothing is as sad as watching you lay latent, so desperate for a hand, and God, I hate this. What if you shake off the shame, put on the red dress again? I know we're not in love, but would it kill you to pretend. I'm so paralyzed by the thought of your every word I can't feel the tremors shake my bed when you're awake again. And your footsteps will feel the same from 500 miles away, when you surface from the surface of my sheets you're smiling at the air, and not at me.
Discover what it's like to be alone, together, and is this friendship really formed? I can't express regret at saying this: We're not gonna make it as lovers, we're not gonna make it as friends.