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All the times that he tries,
And each time he misses.
He'll just fall asleep right now
And dream all night of kisses.
Not the kind that come from Hershey's,
Chocolatey and sweet,
But the kind that come from her,
With which none can compete.
Lovely thoughts of joy and rapture
Flowing through his mind.
All things that this reality
Never seems to find.
These thoughts of a preoccupation,
That he can't ever shake,
An obsession, cruel,
But too wonderful to break.
The flowers I sent to this girl had been roses, and I thought of them as wilted since they had been ineffective. Occasionally, we had a good, non-awkward conversation, but that was the exception, so I thought of each phone call as a try and a miss. Then, at the end, again the theme from Glad to be Sad about the preoccupation/obsession with this girl being cruel for me to experience but at the same time something wonderful that I didn't want to give up.
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