It hurts.
"You like the sad parts of love"
It hurts.
Talking to you listening to you,
touching you living with you...
         especially living with you,
hurts.
It hurts because...
You told me I can sleep in your bed
You tell me you'll sleep in Marens,
Will I be old one day wishing I told you
'no'
That I would say
'sleep with me instead'
I don't have to kiss you,
        but I know I'd want to