For every response left unread.
For every thought trapped in my head.
For the way you make me feel.
Decrypt if it's fake or if it's real.
It's hard to explain a feeling you don't quite know yourself.
Understanding your own mind can be tricky sometimes.
We don't quite know each other yet, despite that fact.
I still feel comfortable to talk to you.
it feels like we have already had a wonderful first date, a romantic second, and our third wasn't the best but we are both don't care because we are spending it together.
It makes me nervous, not knowing if you imagine the same thing.
That's why I panic when I talk to you, not knowing if the thing I just said was good enough.
so I say something new before you can type back, and believing that isn't good enough so I repeat the cycle.
Becoming stuck in a whirlpool of my own anxiety and overthinking, just because I don't want to miss my chance at that bad third date.
I don't want to miss the chance to stare at you, on a night not going as planned, but still being able to smile when I look at you.
I'm sorry I'm not good at talking, but I promise you would enjoy my rambling and awkwardness if you gave it a shot.
Another midnight poem I have found on my phone.
