hikarunazo
I knew that Eva suffered from a personality disorder the moment I met her. There was something in her eyes - a silver glint. "Histrionic, without I doubt", I thought to myself. She referred to herself as 'outgoing'.
Whenever I see the letters "ily" when I read the word "silly", or "happily", I am reminded of the notes he passed to me in English class. The ones he folded into tight little squares and tucked into my locker. "I love you" - that is what "ily" is to me. Strangely, he never dotted his "i"s. I loved that about him.
There it is, like weak cheap coffee. I never say all that I want to say. There isn't enough time to let it brew. There isn't enough time.
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