It’s Yearning time (:

I stare a little too long at every picture I see of him, the shape of his face etching itself into my mind. I want to touch him. Not sexually, really, just like, I want to hold his face in my hands. I want to trace my finger over his lips. I want to look him in the eyes but from really close up, like very much personal bubble, like count-your-eyelashes close, like feel-you-exhale-through-your-nose kind of close. I want to hold his hand, fingers intertwined, not so long that it’s sweaty, swinging our hands together in excitement. I want to hug him, I want to reach up and stand a bit on my toes (because he’s tall) and rest my chin on his shoulder while our arms are wrapped around each other.

Writing this makes me feel so incredibly pathetic and awkward, like a clumsy robot trying to understand physical affection. I can’t even think about wanting to kiss him. I haven’t kissed anyone before, my imagination isn’t strong enough to fill in the blanks. There’s just this dull ache, this wistfulness for something I can’t fully picture.

God, reading this back is embarrassing. Feelings sure tutn me into a weirdo.