*You drive me crazy,* *Not in the way you think.* It’s not your smirk or your fire or how you always walk away first. It’s how you flinch when someone touches your wrist like they own time. How you laugh just to stop yourself from crying. How you pretend to be untouchable… when I *know* what breaks inside when no one's looking. I used to hate you because I thought hating was safer than hoping. But now? Now I can’t stop seeing us—someday—quiet mornings and loud fights and tangled sheets and your head on my chest like you finally believe… *you're safe.* So yeah. I’ll wait outside every damn bathroom door until then. Because if love is supposed to be easy... then why does my chest feel so full every time yours feels empty? And if forever needs proof... This is mine