You are a thought that takes up a lot of my time

I’m writing this because I was thinking about you.

My thoughts were so rambled and chaotic I felt as if though maybe if I was able to write them down and manage to string my words into coherent sentences: maybe, just maybe, I could make sense of my admiration for you.

The little things, like how the words “you’re beautiful” roll off your tongue and how your smile plasters along your face when you see me, makes me so uncontrollably giddy and happy.

I notice how you turn down the music playing in your earbuds when I approach you, and how you devote your attention to me when I’m talking. Everything about you makes me want you.

I crave your attention, your acknowledgment. I think about kissing you. A lot.

When you turn to look at me and your face is a few inches from mine and that gorgeous smile spreads along your face when you’re standing up against the wall talking about how your day is going.

When you run your fingers through your hair and then shake your head— and you have no idea I’m even paying attention to you because you’re so focused on what you’re doing.

When your ocean green eyes flicker between mine and I begin memorizing every detail of you.

You are a thought that takes up a lot of my time.