Nasty, me.

I'm in second place. I think of you & you're thinking of her. I used to do that. Think of another while he thinks of me. He would dedicate a song to me & I would listen to it, enamored. Then have the one I thought of listen to it before I finished listening to it. Is that cold? I mean, my heart felt it & I would share it & cause one to feel those butterflies. That can't be cold.

Second place feels good. Maybe because I know that I would never put you first.