raaaaaaaaawr. raaaaaaaawr. raaaaaaaaawr.

it honestly feels like there’s a pit at the bottom of my fucking stomach. i don’t understand how i fuck up so goddamn much. sometimes i wish i was smart enough to drop my pride; and man enough to lose my insensitivity. but most of all, i wish i could say i know you are. oh; right - hi, you. yes. this is about you. awkward? not really. this is like the last one all over again, minus the lies. let’s get this out of the way: i like you. in fact, i think i like you quite a bit. the fact that you can put up with me until five in the morning makes me smile. the fact that we can talk for hours and then randomly fall asleep makes me laugh. i like the feeling of your head on my shoulder when we watch scary movies… and not-scary movies. i like how you chase after me and hit me just to see if i’m okay. unless that was a tackle hug. that was a weak tackle hug. i like how, even if i fall asleep while we’re talking, you text me good morning; or you fall asleep too. but, for some reason - maybe i’m crazy - i feel like i still don’t know you. i feel like i only have one side of the story, like i only know half of who you are. the you that’s cute, calm, and contemplative. but i feel like everybody else knows you differently. and to be honest, that kinda bugs me. but.. whatever, i guess. it’s my problem, not yours; i can deal. good morning, sunshine.

i’m sorry.