The moment makes you feel wonderful.
Yet the feeling fades quickly into a depressive void.
And I never learn. Because next time I still think it's real.
But when the pain returns I realise I've deceived myself again.

Like when you talk to me.
I think you really like me.
When I talk to you.
I think you want to listen.
When I ask for your help.
I think you offer it willingly.
When I see you.
I think you came to see me.
When I feel your hand brush mine.
I think you did it on purpose.
When I go out of my way to impress you.
I think you notice.

And when the sun rises in the morning.
I think 'what a beautiful day'.

But that's just an illusion too.


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