Sometimes, I think of the way you hold me when we smoke on your porch, and how you constantly tell me that one day I'll get tired of it, even though I assure you every time that holding me sometimes, is never enough.
Sometimes, I think of the way he looks at me when you're not around. The way I catch him staring out of the corner of my eye; never head on, because part of me doesn't want him to look away. Sometimes he looks too much.
Sometimes, I think of all the times you don't talk to me. All the messages that are read and never replied to, and all the comments you pretend not to hear, or just blantantly ignore when I'm speaking. You only listening sometimes, will never be enough.
Sometimes I think of the connections he tries to make with me. The connections that you don't care about making because you don't feel the need to know me like he does. Sometimes, I think he knows too much.
Sometimes, I can't stop thinking about you. I think about the way it feels to hug you, and the way you twitch when I poke your sides. I think of the way you snore while you're sleeping, and the constant smell of coffee and cigarettes on your skin. I think of the way that I love you, and I realize that I will never love you enough.
Sometimes, he can be cute, and he's sweet. But he is too much.
Sometimes, you are abrasive, and rude. But we are never enough.
