So, here I sit, looking at this woman who lies to me everytime I see her. Not able to reveal her true inner self. You must be thinking I am talking about myself, but that I am not. I can't tell you to whom I am talking about because if I go into further detail she will know. How is it you tell people to be open and honest about themselves, but you can't be honest about yourself? It almost makes me want to scream at her crying and asking her why she can't reveal that to me. How am I suppossed to be able to trust someone when they aren't honest to me about themselves. I hope she reads this because she will know whom she is. It intrieges me kind of. To know her, to want to know her. Why is it really my business? It's not. I just want to know more, to want more. Why is it that humans really want more? I guess I will never know. Maybe the answer lies somewhere between heaven and earth. Who is this woman staring at me every so often? I know WHO she is, but who is she really as a person? Why do I crave this knowledge of someone who doesn't really effect my well being and what happens to me? I don't know I guess, and to know is to want to know. That is all I have to say.