I’ve always wanted them just to look at me, as I look at them. I didn’t want to worry about how this conversation could turn into amass shit, because god knows I’m no good at small talk. Or any type of talk in that. But I was always looking. Look at each other, and make those silly facial expressions that you just couldn’t help but find adorable. And god you just wanted them, you didn’t even know if it was the moment of thrill, or that you already fell half way in the beautiful physical infrastructure of their embodiment. You didn’t care. Fuck, who ever gave a shit in moments like this. Whoever looked back at me, as you have. 

I couldn’t name five reasons, much less likely one of why I was so… In depth with you. Well, it’s because I didn’t need a reason. No, not for this.