Can't. Stop. Thinking. About. You.
Perhaps a lobotomy is in order.
You shouldn't be on my mind this much.
Nobody should.
I should know better than to think.
Hope.
That I'm on your mind even a little bit.
When leaving your presence,
I often find that I'm grinning like a fool.
Heart beating fast.
Occasionally blushing a little.
Trying to think of what was just said.
And if I said anything terribly stupid.
Haven't felt like this in years.
Am I really so naive?