My feelings for you are so huge, I don’t think I can contain them. Sometimes I want to hold you so tight it scares me. Like I want to hold you until the life is gone, so that you can’t ever vanish.
If you are going to fall in love with me, it’s only fair that you know what you are falling in love with.
You are falling in love with my insecurities, and my obsession with trying to figure out what everyone thinks of me. You are falling love with my immaturity, my constant need to feel loved and appreciated, my overactive tear ducts, my internet obsession, my tendency to be too clingy. You fall in love with my troubled past, and my hopes and dreams, and how I’m a hopeless romantic at heart. If you fall in love with me, you fall in love with my self-hate and all my imperfections and my perception that nobody could ever love me.
But, you are also falling in love with the way my eyes will smile when I’m with you, the way I’ll text you in the mornings just telling you I hope you have a great day. You’re falling in love with the occasionally humorous and/or thought-provoking things I say, and the way I blush when people ask me about you. But to me, the most important thing will be that you are falling in love with me, despite my thinking that it is impossible.
You can’t measure the mutual affection of two human beings by the number of words they exchange.
I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know?
