I love the sound the little green ceramic spoon makes against my teeth when I play with it carelessly.
I love trusting people and letting them in, even though I know they will almost always let me down later.
I love knowing that he's looking at me observingly, when I'm looking away. And I still know he's looking.
I love the feeling you get when you really have to pee and then you finally DO.
I love eating my food as fast as I can and then immediately feeling bad the second it's over.
I love girly make-up, stillettos and denim shorts.
I love sleeping, all the flippin' time, and staying up late at night doing absolutely nothing.
I love not knowing what I want to do in the future, makes it so much more interesting.
I love leopard print, especially when it's combined with the colour pink.
I love knowing exactly what's on someone's mind when they make that certain expression.
I love wearing my dad's oversized t-shirts.
I love the familiar smell of my room and my blanket.
I love music.
I love comfortable silences.
I love the feeling of being infatuated. Even though it's temporary.
I love thinking about things that are never going to happen and still getting butterflies in my stomach.
I love, a lot.

Wtf.

Sometimes, just sometimes, when I think about me, as a person, the concept of me seems so surreal. Like, wow, this is ME. This is who I am. I look in the mirror; that's what I look like. Its my identity. 'I'. 'Me'. Its just.. Intriguing & a little hard to digest. The concept's always puzzled me, but voicing it out, or putting it down on paper seems odd. Why would anyone question their identity? It feels like I'm questioning my sanity. Sometimes, when people call out my name, or address me, it feels like they're addressing a stranger. Is that normal? I don't know. It just feels strange. Its almost like I'm not comfortable or certain of who I am.
I'm still quite confused. Who the heck am I? It doesn't feel like 'me'. Whatever that is.