I know I shouldn't love you; that it isn't right.
But how can I help myself?
Piece of my past, bane of my existence...
I'm lost, I feel so alone.
People say it's okay to love you; that I should go with it.
And how can I not?
Blond locks swim in my mind, plaid shirts are all I see.
Oh, why aren't you real? Why me?
I just want you to know this: I love you, Arnold.
Even if it's weird.