Listen, you know at fifteen, sixteen, someone beautiful arrives and wins you over with childish butterflies. You might become obsessed or think you're in love but you're young - you don't even know what love is.
Sometimes, a person can be a security, a little safety blanket or a dummy. A soother to wipe down my feverish head when the night terrors kick back in.
You're not that.
You're the older, more beautiful, bubbling entity I could tell my life to. Imagine little kids and a house in someplace boring.
You're exciting, terrifying, you make me nervous. You make me laugh like a geek and scream like a sinner.
"You're a bad girl aren't you." Yes, boy, yes I am. I could be good for you though, I promise I could be.