I look into your eyes and I see pity.

I see sorrow for the idea that I love you so much and you don't return it.

I see pity.

You always let me walk away from you and you don't feel it. You just feel sad for ME. You don't feel sad for you.

How is this observation familiar? CHRIS always felt sad for me, but he never felt sad for him. Except for now.

Now he feels the regret of what he let go. Now he knows what a mistake he made and how he can never go back.

But you won't feel that. You've made the right and practical decision.

You fool.

Now I go to bed alone thinking about you. And I don't think about sex. I think about you here, you're presence givine me comfort in sleep and comfort in waking and knowing you're there.

But you just think, "poor Arianna, she gives so much and she loves so much. But she's just so messy and bad with money. Maybe someone won't find that stuff important and love her for who she is."

Whatever. I'm just feeling sorry for myself because I've had half a bottle of wine and a good time tonight.

I think I'd rather be dead.