It's hard for me to think that you actually want me in that way.
Why? I'm not necessarily sure. I've been wanted before, I think.
I am usually, whether you like it or not, an after-thought.
Though some beg to differ,
and if I am that, I'm accepting.
I'm accepting it regardless of my future-self.
Fuck that embodiment of myself and my ideals.
I've never thought of it that way before.
I've also never been this honest.
I've lied to you twice, that I've counted.
And only a week in, whew.
What a strain.