How All Of My "Someone Else's" End

Vicariousness

I'm laughing because i'm me, and you're you.
And the contrast is so striking that I can't help but find it amusing,
in a sad way.
Vicariousness.
My love life seems to be just a series
of being "happy" for the people
I wish loved me.
The pictures in my head seldom correspond with what's in front of my face.
Even when i'm out of my mind,
slurring my speech,
you find a way in, and you dominate my thoughts,
then break my spirits

"I was hopelessly boring, and he was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and he was a hurricane."