I can’t imagine myself playing music for her. I can’t imagine watching her from across the room, or tucking her against me while we sleep, or pulling her into a bath and rubbing the tension from her shoulders as we smoke a blunt. I can’t imagine fucking her and being overtaken by the urge to look into her eyes as I do it, worried that it’ll be too exposed, but unable to give a shit. I can’t imagine her ever being mine, and I can’t imagine ever being hers. Not like with Story.
