You’re everything I shouldn’t like—booming voice, addictive tendencies, reckless attitude, that hair that always falls in front of your eyes. Then there’s the way your presence is all too loud, filling up the room when you walk in. You’re too much of what I know I should stay away from. Too much of the kind of guy I get warned about with one of those big yellow caution signs, telling me to run like hell in the other direction.

But I’ve never been good at loving, always too much or too rushed or just a little too headfirst.

And there’s something about you that drives me a little crazy. Too crazy to give up just yet.

Maybe it’s that smile, and how it fills your entire face. Maybe it’s how you laugh in a way that’s contagious and always at the wrong times. Maybe it’s how I lose track of all my lists when we’re together, the short-term to-do lists, the long-term to-do lists, the lists that help me get my sh*t together. They get tossed in the trash when I’m next to you.

You make me forget that facade of perfection I try to embody.
You make me remember that it’s okay to f*ck up sometimes.

You make me feel a thousand things at once, sort of anxious and afraid and silly and happy and confused and frustrated. It’s like one of those candies that changes flavor with every layer, sour then sweet then bitter then sweet all over again.

You don’t say the right things. You don’t love me exactly how you should. You burp out loud in the middle of dinner and you drink too much and you stay up too late on the weeknights.

You’re imperfect in a million and one ways but when I think about the way you make me feel, I can’t help but feel a warmth in my chest.

You’re imperfect. So damn imperfect. You’re unreadable sometimes, like a puzzle with jagged edges, or a book with all the text printed backwards. One minute you’re leaning into me, the next you’re pushing away. One minute you’re letting me in, the next minute your head is a thousand miles up in the clouds.

I can’t figure you out, and I’m not sure how this whole thing will work. But one thing I do know, is that you’re imperfect and you drive me crazy and I like both of those things.

I like how you make me smile. I like how you teach me to let go. I like how you always know what I’m thinking, sometimes before I do, and you can read me, even when I try to hide how I’m feeling.

I like that you push my buttons. I like that you make me angry sometimes. I like that we fight like damn children, but that we always throw our heads back and laugh.

You drive me crazy. You make me want to scream. You make me want to cry. You make me smile from ear to ear. And sometimes you make me want to do all of that at once.

I don’t have the answers for you, for us. I can’t fit you into a box, onto a list. I can’t organize you in my life like I do with everything else, but I think, for a change, I’m okay with that.

The two of us are so damn complicated, but maybe we don’t have to be. When it comes down to it, you like me, and I like you, and maybe it can just be that simple.