spinning: nothing compares to you by sinead o'connor.
They hadn`t quarrelled. Nothing of that sort had happened. But she had allowed this gulf of silence to grow between them, a yawning gap that grew more unbridgeable as each day of silence passed by. Why didn`t she say something to get them talking again? She moped. She kept quiet. She avoided him. She shouldn`t let this silence disturb her peace, yet, the niggling thought that she might have some deep feelings for him continued to plague her. She was irritated that she was this weak: it was an unforgivable vulnerability and she ought to be stronger. She ought to be stronger.