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Am I pitiful?

Don't answer that; I already know what you will say. Day by day my life has crumbled with ever increasing intensity and I stand helpless on the brink, watching all I am disintegrate along with the tumultuous emotions ever roiling inside of me. I can't control what I feel, though I wish I could. I can't control who I love.

But I wish I could.

I wish I could ignore the soft resonance of his voice. I wish I were unassailable to the dark, intriguing depths of his eyes, ever keen, ever observant, behind the lenses of his glasses. I wish his words, sometimes pointed, sometimes hurtfully vague, would pour over me as water and not seep beneath my surface to take root and grow, insidiously twisting as they do.

Oh, how I wish.

Others see me when he doesn't, but what they see isn't all I have to offer. There is more, much more, to me than they could ever know. And all I want, all I've ever wanted, is to share that part of me with him –to let him see me as I truly am. But it's not to be. His affections are torn between two others - the haunting sleeping beauty and the effusive girl from the past, and I am beginning to think that there is no world in which I could ever compete with them for his heart.

All I am is background noise.

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