Why does it bother me so much,
and why does it still hurt?
I'm not trying to interfere, meddle, 
or obstruct.

Maybe I shouldn't impose my values on you,
or ask you try to restore connections
when I only know things from my 
point of view.

But where is the man who bought me these records
and wrote about traveling in circles?
The one who promised not to disappear,
to answer if I called.

I'm not asking for my friend back. 
It's too late for that.

You say I have no boundaries.
And that I've crossed a line.
Maybe I have.

I wasn't asking for myself, though.
And that circle you've closed around you
seems to be shrinking, getting smaller and smaller.

Is it hard to breathe in there?
Are you okay?
Does it really bother you that I care?

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