Am I inlove with myself?

The cold bar stool is a familiar sense, the air is smooth and yet seems so dense. I ask the bar keep for nice smooth whiskey, then a stranger comes to sit with me. We start to talk, he shares his story, and its one I seem to know. Yet all too well, he had a love, who left him down, she up and moved out of town, he's faced a loss as great as mine, I noticed were almost the same kind, he has a love who does not not know,but he speaks of how "her fair skin glows". We talk and talk about things so familiar, little did he know we were similar. I fell in love with the first chat, even though he'd never love me back, I didnt plan to say anything soon, but yet again im a goon. I let it slip from my lips, and it moves out ever so smoothly, now that he knows everthing seems groovy, he has his love and so do I, but well always see eye to eye…