My mind tends to wander and ends up back on the thought of you more often than it should. I imagine the beat of your heart, the smell of your skin, the sound of your voice. I think about the way you laugh, the curve of your smile, all while thinking that I can’t wait to know you.
I don’t know who you are yet. I might know your name, and I might know your face, but I don’t know you. I mean, the real you. The you who will tell me your hopes and dreams. The you who will trust me enough to share with me your biggest fears and toughest failures. The you that isn’t afraid to show emotion, the you that doesn’t feel the need to wear a mask with me. The you you’ve been holding back from everyone else, the you you’ve been waiting to share…
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