torn

you're in my thoughts, my dreams. I sit here replaying our conversations and wondering if you're thinking of me. how do you feel? what do you want? We talk, we laugh, overdosing on coffee, moving easily from serious to silly. i steal glances at you. do you feel them? are you doing the same? I silently debate in my head whether or not to voice the range of emotions going through me while we chat. should i say something? do you want to hear what i have to say? feel what i feel? it is so different, and yet so comfortable. i don't know what i want. but i keep thinking of you.