I try to send a happy thought.

I hate to see you blue, to pass my sadness onto you, when all I desire is the opposite. It's very hard.

It is hard to pass happiness when I have the sorrow of so many months without you, avalanched on me on catching a glimpse of you and not understanding why we can't be frank.

I try.

I left the lines open. You said once I piqued your feminine curiosity. Use your curiosity, then.

Did you think I can go spouting like all these peeps as if it meant nothing, with all the emotional charge I put on every single character?

Did you think I can joke at will when a landslide threatens?

A shot is all I have, but the winds are a maelstrom, intending for me to miss.