I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t watch a funny movie without thinking how much you would like it. I can’t see a man in a blue button down shirt without thinking of you standing in my doorway the night you broke up with me.

But do not worry, sweet baby. I don’t think about how sad that event was. Actually, think about how handsome you looked.

I think about how your eyes looked. They looked just like they have every time I’ve opened my door and seen you standing there—sweet and full of love. Whenever i open the door for you, you look at me with such love. I can’t explain it. I’ve just never had anyone look at me like that before.

I can’t stop thinking about kissing you. And kissing you. And kissing you. And kissing you. And pressing my cheek against your cheek. And kissing you. And laughing with you. No one makes me laugh like you. And I need that like I need air.

That’s what it is, maybe. Kissing you is like breathing, but laughing with you is the air that I breath. The truth is that I don’t know anything except that I want to be with you and that I want to be with you and that I want to be with you when I’m with you.