It's 2:26 in the morning, and God, I miss you.
It's pathetic, really.
I look forward to seeing you, when I do, time passes slowly, but too quickly.
As you walk away, or I walk away (whatever), I already miss you.
Sometimes I hold my pillow like it's a person, and pretend it's you.
I think about falling asleep next to you a lot.
I felt so guilty that night, but now I don't really care.
All I know is that somewhere along the line, the universe created something where half of it went to you, and the other half went to me.
I'm in love with your crazy.
It almost makes me feel normal.
We're like a solar eclipse.
The darkness far outweighs the light, but somehow everyone still thinks it's beautiful.
I didn't kiss you enough tonight.
I never do.
The second you pull away, and there's space in between us again, I'm starving for your touch.
A lot of the time you preface your statements with, "Not trying to be weird."
I think that's funny every time because what follows that statement is almost always my thoughts exactly.
Whatever you do to me that you think is weird, or confusing, or whatever, I only have one request:

don't stop.

.