These are questions that I have never had answers to because I cannot bring myself to ask them. I am unbearably shy about this for whatever reason, and it leaves me heartbroken every time. These are the guns of brixxton that are tearing holes in the order of our lives. This is our emotional arsenol we are using to fight the battle we put each other through. I feel forlorn and anxious, and you probably feel nothing at all. You leave me breathless, but at the sight of you I'm in panic. Stop making me fret over what's coming next. Fictious romance is killing the art. I'm starting to give up caring about you and all the worry you are putting me through. These things that keep happening are burning out my tears and leaving me cold and heartless. I swear I will never love again if you carry on this way. No one is happy, and you aren't either. This is a play with a horrible ending, a tragedy even Shakespear would gawk at. You forget you aren't the only one who gets hurt. love