I Want You So Bad It Hurts
Like the Beatles song goes, I want you so bad it's driving me mad.
I want you so bad it almost makes me cry, but I won't let that happen because that would mean I would have lost control, and I already feel like I've lost control.
I haven't wanted to admit to myself that I'm obsessed with you, but denial doesn't make it untrue.
You are so f****** beautiful it haunts me. I cannot spot one physical flaw.
I want to grab you and kiss you for hours. I am starving for your kiss. I want to lift you up while I kiss you and feel your legs wrap around my waist. I want to feel you claw at my back. I want to kiss your neck so I can hear your laboured breathing.
I'm pretty sure I f***** it up with you when you came and spoke to me in that stairwell. I was so intimidated I couldn't make a move, and I hate myself for it. I hope you don't think I'm a coward. I hope you don't think I'm playing games with you. It torments me to think that I may have ruined my chances.
I would rather have you than a million dollars right now, and believe me, I need the money. I need you. But then, if I got the million dollars maybe you'd turn out to be a golddigger and use me for my money. I'd be okay with that; you're the one woman I wouldn't mind being used by. You can take me for half as long as you're the half that I get.
You are so sexy I can barely wrap my mind around it, but that's not why I'm drawn to you. It's not why I find you so hypnotically attractive. The truth is, I don't know why. You're not just a woman; you are a vibe. Whenever we have looked in each other's eyes I could feel you deep inside of me. It's like I'm attracted to your soul as well as your body.
Why did I have to meet you if I can't have you? Why? Is there hope? I desperately want there to be because I think about you all the time and the more I think of how you probably wouldn't want me at this point the more it hurts.
I'm a passionate man, baby. I promise you few other men could outromance you after I'm done. You would look into my eyes and know that it all was genuine. These feelings are all real, little darlin'.
My passion for you is a tiger aggressively clawing the bars of his cage, anxious for release. I want to tell you these things, but I don't want to scare you. I don't want to hurt you or cause you discomfort in any way.
Every moment in class that you're not looking at me is a knife in my heart, twisting, turning, causing me pain. I cry inside.
I want your body, your heart and your soul. I want to consume you completely and still go back for seconds.
I've got a hurricane in my heart, baby. You're in the eye. Sitting there pretty. Always so pretty.