Baby, Please

He says “Baby, I hope you don’t get sick of me”

And I want to scream,

Because I wonder if he realizes the absurdity of that statement

When I poke him in the face a million times to get him to wake up and spend time with me,

And I kiss him when he is sleepy, to keep him awake,

Then proceed to steal his clothes to sleep in, because they smell like him

I drive like a fool at one AM when I just want to get to his house and curl up with him,

Then I make him watch shows and movies he doesn’t care about, because he is the only person I can imagine enjoying watching them with,

And I distract him from movies that he actually wants to see, so that I can kiss him

And I can’t tell him that I love him because I’m too fucking scared

But he worries that I will get sick of him,

And it’s too sweet, too wonderful

To think that I have him and he is mine.
And god do I love him, even if he doesn’t know it yet.