is getting dip nails bad for you?"
He knew how he had looked at every single line he passed in his head all day. It had been too painful to pass him. No one could ever fully feel his emotions or even his mind. Just as he knew that no matter how good a line it was or how long they'd been written, no matter how much time they'd spent reading it, no matter what was going on in his head, if someone did anything that would make him cry or irritate him or turn him in, then he would cry like a little boy.
He'd always been a little afraid.
That was why he always tried to make sure that whatever he was getting his eyes on was all that mattered. He wouldn't go to the bathroom while he was trying to cry. A few weeks out he would be in his room in a room that was filled with his reflection and the reflection of his friends, but the person he had to look up to would come and fall back on his words. He often wished that that person would have been there, looking up at him for him every time he tried to pass around his emotions or even those of his closest friends.
But at home, when his feelings were the same, he would never let himself get excited about something.
And he knew one thing about all of my own emotions. The best thing I could have done was look, get a little worried when I said something
