People don't remember me. Really. It's not a paranoid thing; I just have this habit of slipping through memories. It doesn't bother me all that much, except I guess that's a lie; it does. For some reason, I test very high on forgettability.
You do not always seem to be able to decide that it is all right, that you are doing what you're doing and yet there is always that complicity in your smile that it is we, not you, who are doing it which is one of the things that make me love you