It's not often that I need this site. I'm in a pretty damn good place. But if I don't get this off my chest, I'm going to implode. I need to ramble like a fourteen year old girl. This isn't going to come out coherently.
I almost went insane after dark. Trying not to make a sound, wired awake because our shoulders or ankles would occasionally graze eachother. I don't really know what I wanted to happen. I just wanted to get closer. It's impossible to sleep that close to him. I know that's what kept me up; I just have no idea why he was still awake.
And then there are the million little things I can't explain about him. Why is he lying about his age? If he's gay, why does he make the jokes about naked chicks? Why does he almost never make eye contact? I can't fucking tell if I'm making him nervous, or if he's nervous because he wants to bolt.
I'm turning into a little puddle of insecurity because of a him. I don't know if I'm crazy and imagining things, or if we both just lack the balls to make the first move. And now it's three in the morning, and I'm writing journal entries about him, because I can't sleep because I'm still thinking about him.
I haven't told any of my friends or family about him. If it turns out that I'm crazy, I could probably take the rejection. I don't know if I could handle the embarrassment if anyone witnessed it. I don't remember liking anyone this much, or having this much hope. It scares the crap out of me.
He's going to be the death of me.