She tells me I act like I don't want her

I react like I don't want her I'll admit

But reactions are just that, rarely in full control

But it's the things I do that I know should show I want her

It's not the bed I want
It's her

It's not the **** I want
It's the interaction with her
At this point it could be cigarettes

It's not the pain I want
It's hearing her voice, seeing her engaged with me

Its not the movies I want to watch
I want to watch her watch the movie
She's beautiful, graceful, and hilarious
I might only get that once from her

It's not the food I want,
Though her cooking is my favorite
It's the thought and energy behind it I want to reciprocate

It's not the self satisfaction that I made her happy
It's the knowledge that she IS happy

It's not the home she makes I wanna come back to
It's her
The home could be the streets for me

I wish she could feel the way I feel

I wish I could be happy with her
But one can't just be happy...