“Why do you like me?”

He asked.

“I don’t know.”

Maybe, I do know.

Maybe, because you make me happy.

No, wait, I wasn’t happy before we met.

You were full of assumptions,

And I was unavailable.

Maybe it’s punishment, 

I was happy the first time we met.

I was happy when we spoke,

It felt like my heart was truly belonged for the first time.

When you were mean,

I was unhappy,

but I couldn’t hate.

Then I was always happy subsequently,

The multiple times we met.

When you shared your day,

When you touched me,

My skin felt truly happy,

My body was happy,

I was happy.

I was happy when we held hands,

Even though ever so briefly.

I was happy when we kissed,

Simple and passionate ones alike.

Sometimes my happiness was so extreme,

I felt embarrassed being happy.

I was the most happy when I see you smile,

I like to know that you’re happy.

I worry,

When you don’t smile.

It’s strange to worry.

At least you’re smiling when I see you.

Somehow I want to be near you,

Like you’re my sun,

I want to orbit.

But if you’re the sun,

Many other planets orbit.

I will not be your one and only.

Maybe I can live with that,

Maybe I can’t.

Then in that case I’ll be your sun.

The sun that for you she burns, 

For you she’s lit.

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