I'm scared, I'm worried, I get so worked up, and upset.
Sure it could be said that its her fault, that she tells me too much, that she knows how to say things, so that I get all wound up. Naw, its not that, it that I care so much. I care more than I ever thought possible.
I'm so very imperfect, and I know that, I talk too much, I like my music too loud, I enjoy the simple things too much, I lean towards direct and sometimes violent soluions to problems. I'm too simple. I'm too complex. I'm a walking anachronism, a contradiction, a constantly moving graidiant...
I'm me, she is her, we are who we are, and we love each other, and frankly, that's really all either of us truly care about...
