I finish my cigarette whilst I wait for your reply. Just as I stub it out in the ashtray, your reply pops up. A smile creeps across my face as you ask me out to lunch. I run my palms over my face, not knowing what I should do. I figure that lunch isn't hurting anybody. It's not as if you'd be attracted to me anymore anyway, not with all the groupies you're most likely taking back to hotel rooms every night.<br/><br/>Thinking about you with groupies begins to torture my mind once more, just like it used to. I'm still convinced that you cheated on me whilst we were together, though many of your friends and family have tried telling me otherwise. Seeing the girls that turn up at your gigs always made me feel pretty self-concious, they were perfect.<br/><br/><strong>Of course. Pick me up at noon today? Can't wait to catch up with you! :)</strong><br/><br/>Questions start playing on me now. Am I still in love with you? Did I ever really fall out of love with you? Am I in denial that I ever stopped loving you?