his fingers graze the keys of the piano. every single key. and i can't help but laugh.
"i'm great, ain't i?" he asks.
"yes, of course you are." i lie.
this is just too fast. it really is. things can't be different yet. i'm not ready for something small to develop into chaos [again]. i don't want it to.
then again, maybe i do. maybe this is what i need.
maybe this "chaos" is what i need. he's so calm, so cool, so collected. i'm so uneasy, so restless, so out of control.
i'll be north, he'll be south. maybe the irony of it all will come together. maybe it'll work.
maybe he'll like me too.