The Other Person

Loving you is like stubbing a toe at the edge of a table that’s never in your way but it is that day, when everything is already going wrong and you’re frantic trying not to panic.

Loving you is like a splinter that you can’t reach, and it doesn’t hurt unless you move your feet, but you have to walk all the way over to the chair because you sat on the floor and couldn’t reach your legs from there.

Loving you is like a speck of dust in your eye on a windy day, and you blink and rub and wash till your it’s red, but the dust still stays there, so you cry because it doesn’t hurt but it does and you need the tears to make it moist enough to flush out on its own

Loving you is like a sneeze stuck in your nostrils, itching, uncomfortable, as you desperately trying to force it out and when it eventually does, it comes out flat, like the sneeze that almost fried your nostrils was not more than a sigh

Loving you is like the ripple effect, a small butterfly flap that creates a tornado of emotions in me.

Loving you is chaotic, frantic, overwhelming, calm.

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

I met you, and i love you.