PHOEBE
Phoebe shook her head, looking back down at her hands. "Was it real or did I just want it to be?" she said with a light shrug. "Did I just want to believe that I could be loved? Wanted? So much so that I allowed myself to live in a delusion." She frowned, watching her fingers turn white as she gripped the glass that she held with all her strength, as if it alone anchored her to the ground.She gave him a small, mirthless smile and shook her head. "You can't say that with such confidence." she said, looking back at the empty glass. "There are plenty of people - kind, lovely people even - who end up sad and alone. Why else if that is not their lot in life? Not everyone is so lucky as to find someone to love and who loves them in return."
I gotta find my place
I wanna hear my sound
Don't care about all the pain in front of me
'Cause I'm just trying to be happy
I wanna hear my sound
Don't care about all the pain in front of me
'Cause I'm just trying to be happy
