And That's The Way I Like It

I didnt write about it the day it happened. I shouldve though. Im trying really hard to think of what to say about this but I can't. It's become extremely hard for me to get a straight story. This is another self-observation; I change up my stories all the time! K I'm dying of tiredness.

...I thought that maybe two days later I'll continue the draft I totally forgot about...

You make me feel unfiltered. You make me feel uncomfortable. You overload a jolt of extreme electricity to run through my body. I enjoy the scent that you leave on my clothing. I admire the feel of your cheek upon mine. I believe that I adore your smile as much as your mother does. We dove head first into a bubble of our own world away from what everyone else has created to be a mess. Beyond captivating. But just below by half a level to what I find to be perfect. I love it when we're just lying together, your head on my shoulder, your eyes are closed, I'm watching over you, kissing your forehead like a child. You make me feel like a child. I hope I make you feel something. I feel more of use, not being used, but I can feel my reasoning now. No matter my height, I feel you leaning on me, I'm the hand you hold to guide you. The light you look for in the dark. The reason for the smile on your face. You'll make me smile because I make you smile and that'll just make me smile even more, then you'll smile harder because I'm making a ridiculous face, but as that's going on, I'm still smiling because you've entangled me with your own smile- and the cycle will continue. I'm confident that this will work. I don't even need to reassure myself. You make a beautiful "raison d'être." Too bad you suck too much at French to understand that. HA-HA. :)