I've drank until my stomach hurt, bought flowers for funerals, slept in hospital beds, kissed sad girls happy.
I've filled my lungs to brim with smoke and decay, fallen for ugly hearts, walked home barefoot with heels in my hand, had so many loves.
He has something unlike any other, with his dirty hands and bright brown eyes and dark blonde hair. Like a flower in the midst of a rainstorm or a suit or the kind of boy you would adore in movies and go to bed dreaming about and be sad that you couldn't find him anywhere around here.
He's the only one that's made me feel secure with one person.