I Hate It

I hate it when I walk beside you, the constant struggle when my hand yearns to reach out to yours.

I hate it when I look at the profile of your face, and the uneasy feeling of my heart skipping a beat.

I hate it when you reach out to touch my hair, I long to keep your hand there forever.

I hate it when you show little tender gestures, and I feel that little greedy glee.

I hate it when I have the selfish thought to keep you up , even when we have long days to keep the next day.

I hate it when at I am expecting a catch to the situation, but there is none that I can see whatsoever.

I hate it when when I am alone I wonder if what just happened was only a figment of my imagination.

I hate it when I catch myself thinking of you as a possibility when I plan for things ahead.

I hate it..

When you came into my world and turn everything tipsy turvy, and I know I am bowled over, falling uncontrollably, and hoping that this time, perhaps I do not have to climb out of the black hole once again.