Compliments

Do your compliments mean more or are they hollow words only meant to fill in the awkward silent spaces in our conversation? To me, when you compliment the way I look in an outfit, I feel as if this is validation that you do indeed look at me as more than the perpetually goofy, upbeat sidekick. By complimenting my purple hair and thrift-store bought Hawaiian shirt, or the way I approach life and the way my hair looks, you are leading me to think that you look at me differently than the rest.That you see me for my content and not just my appearance. Maybe this is just my love struck heart getting caught up in it all, but I want to believe that it means more. The way you look at me when we speak, and the way you look at me from across the room, fill my heart up to the brink and push me to want more of your alone time. I want to be surrounded by your presence and see the world through your eyes. I want to know what goes on in your head.

But then again, would I like you as much if I was given a glimpse into your personal world? Would I want to stick around, knowing all of your inner thoughts and desires? I find it hard enough to retain feelings after hearing of your hook-ups with girls you have no desire to see tomorrow. I sit here, on my couch, questioning whether it would be worth it to explore your world a little further. I persevere, in hopes that there may be a small place for me to fit in, in your world. A space for just me and you, devoid of the drama and messes associated with college relationships. A place where we listen to offbeat indie music and drink shitty beer, staring at your trippy tapestry and not caring about our individual worlds.

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