Trapped

A friend told me that love is bitter.
I smiled.
A friend asked me which color is better.
I sipped my tea.
A friend showed me pictures of her lover.
I yawned.

Loves, she is a hospitable person! I do not want to admit it but I simply have no clue how to deal with this kind of person. I have this urge to tell her, to admit, that I do not give a flying darn about her life. But I can't because she is awfully nice.

That leaves me with no other choices, I will pretend as if I care.
Even if it's exhausting,
Even if my pseudo smile is ugly
or my eyes shows emptiness,
I will pretend.