I hope you remember the things we talked about. I hope that someday we can still be friends. Each day I think. Each day I cry. I cry for the love I ha... to give up. I cry for the longing I have in my heart. I cry for the future that holds no joy for me. I cry and I wonder how I can go on feeling this way, lost and alone. I cry, with the knowing that I am lost, confused and alone. Each day I cry. Each day I worry. I worry that I can and will not make it. That I will attempt something irrational.. As time went by, we were drawn quite close to each other. I also noticed that mr. Nandagopal had become quite touchy-feely in all these months. He would never miss an opportunity to touch, feel or caress me. Holding my hand or caressing me was quite normal for him but now he would, at times, put his hand way too up on my thighs, at times rub his shoulders on my boobs while we sit together or even dared to touch on my cheeks on one pretext or the other. It sometimes seemed very awkward but i. More

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