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Gregory.
Incense is burning next to me. Dark purple on a dull gray. Do you believe me? There's paintbrushes to my left too if you decide to trust me. They are an assortment of blues, tans, and browns inside a clear glass. The paints inside consist of oranges and greens all mixing together to form a piece of artwork. A rush of color leading to a masterpiece. I hope you're enjoying all of this. This is a rerun of your free ticket to that museum you wanted to go to. The glass is swallowing the paints as a whole. Launching out Mona Lisa's like there's absolutely no tomorrow - scratching deep messages into all the replications of a Starry Night Sky.
Caroline, are you listening to me? This is important.
I fell in love with you and now I have exactly four minutes to explain to you why. The first hint is your color, and as I continue you're just going to have to follow the rest. Feel free to interrupt me if you're questioning my motives. If you think I'm just f***ing with you as a tool of manipulation, shout. If you think I'm being controlling, if you don't trust me - if you think my name's actually Edward instead of Gregory. Just let me know. I'll stop. I'll start twisting the conversation around, and before you know it we'll be on a whole different level of a mind game.
Anyway back to what I was trying to tell you. On my fortieth birthday I won two tickets to go see Melissa Ethridge in concert. She gave me a high five and squeezed my shoulder backstage while packing up her guitar. I told her I was in love with you (that's what triggered the high five and the squeezed shoulder). I said, "IM IN LOVE WITH CAROLINE!" And she thought it was great. I forgot to explain the fact that I was a secret ninja and could become invisible whenever you were around - that you didn't know I existed yet. I even told her I was going to take you out on a dinner date soon to confess my love - but I was lying. It was just so I didn't look like a complete loser. The truth was, you were actually on a business trip for work. You would be gone for a week - and although I'm not entirely sure what you do, I know you frowned a lot before you left. Then you got up, grabbed your big brown suitcase you carry around and put on those glasses that you wear when your eyes get too stressed. I know your eyes get stressed because everyday it's the same thing; you rub them frequently, place your hand on your forehead and drink a couple of glasses a water before digging them out of your suitcase. Then well, you look sophisticated. And I stop looking at you from across the room, because then I know you can see me clear as ever.
Well, actually that's when I start making really strange coordinations in my head. Relating things and pinpointing them. I realize that the more you wear your glasses the more you can see, and if you can see me then you can see through me. And I start painting madly inside of our fancy glass work cups. They come out amazing, I think. Right? It's a distraction from my constant distractions.
But you're only listening to this if you trust me, and I'm not really sure if you trust me yet.
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