I get way too sensitive when I get attached to someone. I can detect the slightest change in the tone of their voice, and suddenly I’m spending all day trying to figure out what I did wrong.
Maybe home is nothing but two arms holding you tight when you’re at your worst.
I’ve always loved the idea of not being what people expect me to be.
I want you. I want your sleepy confused look when you wake up, and the smile that follows. I want to be the warmth that fills the space in your bed. I don’t want to share you.