I watched you from across the room as I worked on some papers. You brought work with you this weekend and locked yourself in the office. Taking a break, I rub my strained eyes and continue watching you. Things between us are so strange. We're friends, we've agreed to that. Yet there seems to be something that always pulls at us.
Something inside of us when we come together burns us both. The intensity of it is sometimes too much to bear. You keep to yourself about the other half of your life, and I tell you everything about myself. You know more about me than sometimes I even care to know. Yet a part of me feels I don't know you at all.
You're quiet demeanor is completely different than anything I've ever expected. Drifting through the house are the sounds of Howie Day. Appropriate it seems, the consistent strumming of his guitar speaking deep inside me as I continue watching you. Trying to figure out the mystery of you, not so much how to get in but how to be at least closer than I am now.
>>Even the best fall down sometimes >>Even the wrong words seem to rhyme >>Out of the doubt that fills my mind >>I somehow find >>You and I collide