I know, and I always know I don’t make sense to anyone anywhere. But I wanna live, want to be kissed, want to be loved. Life is arbitrary, so am I. Don’t tag me as S-P-E-C-I-A-L. It’s just always too hard to tell true stories.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly without complexities or pride. I love you because I know no other way than this. So close that your hand, on my chest, is my hand. So close, that when you close your eyes, I fall asleep.