He isn't afraid to stare into my soul and I am not afraid to let him.
When his eyes lock with mine I feel strangely comfortable.
When he leaves me to talk to flirting girls with obnoxious laughs, I do not feel jealous.
It could be that I don't care.
But I know better.
He says things like I just want to wake up and be able to see the cracks on my ceiling.
I've thought the same thing at least one hundred times.
We are both so blind and if you aren't visually challenged you probably don't understand what is like waking up to a blurry world.
He doesn't tell me that I am beautiful or that I look nice.
What a relief.
It is okay because I already know.
He knows I like it when he makes all of the decisions.
I know that he wishes I would make more.
Okay, I am stopping now because I am making myself nauseous.
What in the hell am I turning into?
Are these things the consequence of emotion?
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