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hey boy, thank you.

i'm glad you offered me a ride home from work, and i'm glad we exchanged numbers.

i'm glad i got over your friend, and that you stuck it through the whole time i was crushing on him. i'm glad you were my valentine, even if i had to share you with your co-worker.

because you see?

i'm the type that won't give up. i'm stubborn, and silly, and immature, but i know you like that. every word that comes out of my mouth should have been carefully planned and scripted, to leave you craving for more, but they're not. instead they're flowing over my tongue and falling on the floor in piles and heaps around my ankles.

i feel like a fool, always stuttering and mixing up my words, but be thankful. be thankful that it's because of you that i'm like this. that you're the cause of my racing heart and the sudden increase in the population of butterflies living in my stomach.

my breath hitches in my throat when i see you, and my hands itch because they want to be held. we are salt, you are the wound. it's a pain, but it's a good pain. remember saying that, boy?

i could dissect you and gut you on this stage, searching for what you have that makes me like you so much. but it's pointless. i like everything about you, yes it's true. you've brainwashed me and now i'm more confused. i don't know whether to smile or laugh or giggle uncontrollably behind my hands at the sight of you.

tonight i made a secret oath. i'm never going to give you up, boy.