"Do you honestly believe anybody's an addict because they want to be?"
Some wondered why he was bitter.
The first time had been like a shard of ice, driven straight into his heart. He'd been so close... So he tried again.
Once he had been asked whether being a cold bastard came naturally to him.
It wouldn't hurt so much if she didn't always smile that kind, sad smile.... If only he'd been a little faster, just a little faster... So he tried again.
He'd simply smiled and told them that he wished it did.
A hundred times later the only difference is that he knows that he'll always be too slow, that he will never make it. Still he tries again.
Practice makes perfect right?
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