The More I Know You

The more I know you, the more I want to talk to you. And in attempts at a conversation, I talk about stuff that I would otherwise find mundane, also in an attempt to better understand you. For the more I know you, the more anxious I get, thinking “what if this is boring,” or “what if this is disrespectful,” etc.

For the more I know you, the more guilt I feel for my nonsensical actions. The more I know you, the more afraid I get of disappointing you, of losing you.

The more I know you, the more I smile at each encounter and with each notification.

For the more I know you, the more melodious your voice seems, the more appealing your eyes seem, the more painful your tears become, the more soothing your smile becomes, the more valuable your opinions seem and the more reassuring your presence becomes.

The more I know you, the more I want to know you. The more I know you, the more I want to share with you, the more I want to introduce to you the inner sanctum of my mind, the ordered randomness and the organised chaos. Someday, I will; someday, when I know you better.

For the more I know you, the more I appreciate you. The more I know you, the more I love you and the more I live.

Got something to say? Feel free! Just don't be too harsh.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.