Maybe it's because I've been left with myself for too long that you appeared like a surprise I wasn't even sure that was coming. You, like rain at 3 in the morning or 3 in the afternoon, make me want to think about you, make me want to (day)dream. Make me want to steal glances, make me want to stare into your eyes, make me want to look away from your gaze. You almost make me want to stop being sad.

Maybe it's because I think you weren't a surprise for me and instead I misread the signs and now I'm in too deep to stop misreading and you make me want to write words that remind me of you, make me want to write words about you. Make me want to describe how your eyes make my heart want to continue beating, how your smile makes my lungs want to continue breathing, how your lame jokes make my cheeks want to continue smiling. You almost make me want to stop being sad.

Maybe it's because I feel like I'm giving myself hope and I'm sorry you ended up in a reality I made up because I couldn't get a grip of myself before I found myself jumping off the building. You don't deserve the longing I projected to you because of my selfishness because you make me want to hear your days, make me want to drink coffee with you, made me fall in love. You make me want to start something, make me want to do something, make me want it to be something. You make me happy.