Sometimes, you make my heart stop.
Okay, it may not actually stop, but it sure feels like it. At the thought of losing you, my heart leaps to my throat, gasping for the oxygen that lingers so nearby. Once in a while, the silly thing forgets to beat and it seems as though you may be the death of me yet.
Sometimes, you make me weak in the knees.
I fall to the ground, certain that there is no way I’ll ever stand up. My legs shake and I reach for you, fall through you, over and over again.
Sometimes, you make my mind soar.
My thoughts fly around the room at a million miles per hour, bouncing off of the walls and ricocheting off of the ceiling. I think about everything and nothing all at once, the silence both deafening and terrifying. Past, present and future combine in a dizzying wave of emotion that crashes over me until I begin to drown.
Sometimes, you make it seem as though everything is okay.
The world begins to make sense in your presence; things come together as if the key to the puzzle that is my life has fallen into your hands. When you wrap yourself around me, my broken pieces come together in a messy mosaic, reflecting your light instead of my darkness.
But sometimes, you make it seem as though nothing is okay.
The power that you hold is more frightening than anything else in the world to me. Time after time, you take my tattered heart and stitch it up, only to tear a new seam. Eventually, I know, there will be no more room for stitches.