Since now the hour is come at last,
When you must quit your anxious lover;
Since now our dream of bliss is past,
One pang, my girl, and all is over.
Lord Byron
He saw her walking away and he tought "What a moron, run after her and tell her you are sorry, run after that girl and don´t let her go", but he couldn´t stand up. He just stayed there, rumiating his anger, his bad moods. "I´m glad you asked" he wanted to tell her, but instead of that he had been rude and he could feel her looking at him, probably thinking he was an idiot. And he was.
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