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4:44 AM
I don't want to tell Davis that I love him.
Instead, I want to tell him that his voice reminds me of Indian chai tea and that his lips taste the way I thought cherry blossoms would and that I'd much rather sleep pressed up against his skin than underneath a bed sheet. I want to tell him that I plug my headphones in to listen to the sound of his heartbeat and that he makes me want to scream and cry and buy a one-way ticket to the other side of the world just to get away from him. I want to tell him that it feels like I am skydiving without a parachute because I have never fallen so hard or so fast and that's scary, but I have never felt more alive than when I am with him.
I'd tell him that I love him, but my lips shake and my tongue quivers and he probably wouldn't understand what I'm saying.
I will keep this feeling tucked away in the back of my heart, for now.
