Don't you be using every minute on makin' a living.

I like the way you crinkle your eyes. And do the silliest things to get my attention. I like the way you divert conversations so quickly, hopping from topic to topic. I like the way you make up cute words to describe what you were going through. I like the way you cock your head to one side, or the most adorable way you smile. I like the way you handle your pencil, and can't decide which hand you'd like to write with.

I'd like to imagine those very fingers between mine. I'd like to know what it's like to be so close to you, inches away from hugs, desperate grasps, and the most intimate of kisses. I'd like to imagine the smell of your hair, and guess the songs that are playing on your iPod, or read Letters to Crushes and imagine if you were writing them anonymously to me.

I'm addicted, to the things you say, to the things you do, cliche as it sounds.

You're a perfect mess, a comfortable surprise.

Remember my list of things?

I didn't tell you, but you're on it.