here i am crying myself to sleep because the one thing i secretly wanted for my birthday i didn't get. it stings because it nearly happened. you almost gave it to me, i could tell, but you thought better of it. i had told you to live in the moment as we sat on the library floor and talked. later, as you turned to leave, you said if you were living in the moment just then you would get yourself in trouble. i said nothing. you left. then i was alone. i'm not sure which of us is the greater fool - you for not kissing me, or me for wanting it.