...not sure if it's how he looks at me when we're laying side by side or when he so carefully places his head against my shoulders, arms wrapped around my waist. For now it feels good to be held in that way, with what little we do know of each other. I don't know if liking him in that way would be a wise choice for me. Should I put my heart on the line so obviously in that way, I could only hold myself accountable for getting hurt, for leaving myself so vulnerable.

But there is dead grass and shrubbery in my sweater from the field tonight. I pick it out knowing that it means more to me than it will probably ever mean to him. Tonight I was less afraid around him, less afraid to feel him running through my veins like my own blood.

How can I be so wrong in the way that I feel?

...always so wrong.

I guess I'm afraid that I'll never find that someone who will love me in all the ways I want to be loved, who will think I'm beautiful when I see myself to be the ugliest thing existing, who will think the random things I do are sweet or thoughtful or even cute, who will do random things for me. I want someone to kiss me, sending my body into a neverending rollercoaster ride, you know, the kinds of rollercoasters with the huge declines. And there's so much more I want in that type of relationship than I could possibly list here, more than anyone would ever read or hear of. I have so much already, and I feel greedy asking for more, but it's a different type of relationship than I have with anyone else in my life at the moment.