Text: I love you. You know that. Fuck, it was real. I’m the most difficult, most intense, and control isn’t possible. I’ve seen the other two in your life, and either would be a perfect compliment to you, and you are in total control, but there is something off or you wouldn’t be here with the dark horse. I pay attention, and I’ve sat there watching, hoping that you would give me an occasional look while you go off with everyone else - and I still come back. I know my chances are about .02 percent with you, not because of me, but because I’m a man, but I’m still here. Who in their right mind would stay and watch the shit show? That’s me. I come back every time, but I’m never sure if you will.
Text: I look out at the audience, and I hope you are there, but I’m not going to ask, or feel like I’m forcing you to come see me. Does that sound like someone who might want you to just go away?