The moment I think I’ve fallen out of love with you, BAMM!!! You gotta dream-visit me. How typically you! Can’t see me happy, can you? As soon as I’m somewhat over you, you get the tip-off and come back into my life, through a 45seconds long phone-call, or a beautiful happily-ever-after dream. I wonder who works for you. Who pretends to be my friend but still keeps a close watch enough to tell you when he thinks I might be moving on, so that you can come back barely for a minute and disrupt it all. I’m not pissed at you; I’m pissed at him. Or her. Whatever. I’m so fucked up!