I remember the night we met. that night we sat entwined under summer skies. I looked into your eyes, and you looked into mine; you said, "you're not like the rest." and I nodded. "no one understands me," you said, and I nodded once again as if to agree that all men are indeed the same. somehow, you said, I was different.
For months on end, I maintained a veneer of sincere interest as if I was listening as you re-lived every page of self help and new age that you had read, and I went in for the kill! I'd read the same books, I learned to ape the motions of a sensitive human being, and we were oh so happy. but you found things to thick, and I knew it was time to move on.
(In Love, In Love ... )
So now you have me completely figured out! you feel sorry for me! I can't express my feelings! I can't tell the truth! we are all alike. at puberty I was sworn to secrecy by the international brotherhood of lying fickle males. I can't tell you anything, and I can't commit! you're right! I can't commit... to you!
I will always treasure our time together. I don't feel enough of anything to harbor the kind of disdain that you maintain. you painted me into what you wanted to see! and that's fine...