There isn't many memories I'm comfortable to keep.

What a shame it is we can't make ourselves fall in love with someone -- that sometimes, for reasons unknown, we are drawn to the people that aren't good for us and ignore those that might save us.

I had always known how he felt and knew one day the words would come out. I guess part of me had hoped they never would or that he would come to his senses before they did. I know the bitter taste of unrequited love only too well and I hate to be the cause of it.



I'm not playing hard to get. It isn't that I can't care for you the way you would like, nor is it that I won't. It is simply that I don't.