There’s this weird mixture that’s in my head and my stomach and it makes me feel a little dizzy and a little sick. I think I talk too much about how I feel and I get stuck in it, but I just want to relish everything I feel because – at least for me – it’s so important.
My heart beating in my chest, feeling my breath pass between my lips, listening to the blood rushing in my ears when it’s quiet; it’s fucking life and it’s scary and exhilarating and sometimes I don’t think I’m cut out for it but, damn, is it big.
I’m a little stuck on you and I know it’s stupid and I shouldn’t be but it feels nice to feel it, even though it fucking sucks, too. Maybe these chemicals that swarm my brain when I think about you will drip out soon and it’ll be okay and I’ll stick to someone else who sticks to me too.
Wanting, wanting, wanting; feeling, feeling, feeling – I don’t want these feelings to stop, but I want you to want me too.