You looked me in the eyes today and said 'you can talk to me about anything, you know that'
I let out a chuckle and looked away, because there's so much irony in that.
I can talk to you about anything except
how much I crave you,
how your smile lights up my day,
the butterflies in my stomach when we laugh about something stupid that makes sense only to us,
the fact that I wish you were coming home to me at the end of the day,
how much I would love to feel your arms around me before falling asleep at night.
I can talk to you about anything, but I cannot talk to you about the things that eat me inside when it's 2am and your blue eyes are the only thing on my mind.