neubaurawr
Her eyes were glazed over, with a a tinge of red. You couldn't see it on her face, there was no guilt anywhere. But I knew that may she be talking normally, her mind was preoccupied with the deed she had done that night. Mary had began to smoke again.
I was too preoccupied. To busy with myself, my own problems, my own choices, to be bothered with yours. That's awful, isn't it? I was supposed to have loved you. Maybe it's because I push people away. Who knows why? Isn't that life's cruel joke? To make it short and filled with problems that you have no time to enjoy it, I guess that's I have been cursed with this forgone solitude.