Does It? Gianna DeMarco My mind always travels back to you, sitting across from me, flirting with our waitress. I ordered fries because you said you wanted me to eat something, But now I know you just wanted to be able to have the pride in saying you paid for me. But that doesn't make it a date, does it? You always had this gleam in your eye when you looked at me, like I was a trophy that sat inside of a glass case. It felt like you coveted me. Maybe I just wished you did. But that doesn’t make it real, does it? A lot of our friendship was fleeting. We lived in these strange memories together, like we could only conceptualize one another for moments at a time. Most of our time together was wasted. But that doesn’t make it worthless, does it? You cried so often when we spoke, I felt as though I was your diary. It was this girl, or that girl, or whoever it was that was hurting you. Of course, I calmed you down. Every. Single. Time. I wanted to protect you from the pain people inflicted upon you, but that doesn’t make it end, does it? What I’ve realized in the past year, is that I felt something different about you. What I felt for you was this fiery, burning, heat of desire, although you didn’t feel the same. You know, I still think about you every day. That’s what you left me with. But that doesn’t make it love, does it?
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