Often I ask myself why I've fallen for you; how is it possible I'm in love with someone who isn't mine? But then I replay our interactions over and over in my mind. The way you tease me, our playful fights, the stupid inside jokes. They way you look at me when something funny happens, the way your head jerks up when I start speaking. And the answer becomes obvious. I'm in love with you because you're my someone special. You're incredibly stupid and immature and blind to others feelings, but you're also talented and funny and unique in your childish ways. And you're not mine, but our memories don't lie. You're the one who read the candy love hearts to me; you're the one who asked for a dance, but you're also the one who's afraid he's lost his chance.
