P.S. i love you

What do women want?

We have abosolutely no idea.

I get jealous easily. I wanted to be the one who was beginning to understand life, even me for that matter

"and you know a little more about... you.

A little bit more than anyone else does."

I want to look at the pouring rain and come up with a jumble of words to why walking in the rain with no purpose is just something we do...as if being soaked is when life as you know it ends.
Why do we take something simple and ordinary and strech it into something big, professing our love of it to everyone...because seeing it on paper, in a melody, shouting it out loud...makes it right, makes what we feel, more real?

You tell me...why does rain make everything feel so right.

"I don't want to make any mistakes.

Then you're in the wrong species, love. Be a dog."