So I realized that it’s not exactly all your fault. I was trying to be nice to somone whose heart had turned to stone and whose mind was set on disaster. So I’ll sit here and let Jason Mraz sing me into oblivion. But please remember that even though I may roll my eyes and ignore your formerly comical comments, I am still the sad little girl you found in the back corners of my mind singing to herself about the way her world should be. And I may not invite you over this Sunday or say Hey when you pass by. But you and I both know that your fingers will instictively dial my number even when your eyes are too blurred by your tears. Like Jason Mraz says: Mr. Curiousity is killing me.