I love you more than anything in the world. More than the sky and the moon and the stars. I think about you constantly. You're just there. I can feel you. I can feel my fingers run through your hair, your breath in my ear, I can feel these impossible things, these fantasies of mine. I can feel your warmth sending shivers through my icy skin. I can smell you all the time. I smell your sharp, prickly cologne. I can feel my disappointment when you wear the cologne with a new jacket, so there's no hope of smelling the real you. The real you that is a mix of everything. It's contradictions. It's woodsy, but not pine trees or nature. It's sweat, but it smells good, not like the boy's locker room. Corny though it may be, but I must confess that you smell manly. Your smell makes everything go away and I want nothing more than to be wrapped in your arms. When your smell mingles with the air I inhale, I can't breathe. My brain goes fuzzy. A lump forms in the throat, the size of Texas. Something light, wispy is in my stomach, fluttering. I can't concentrate. I can't hear anything but my heart beating faster than a hummingbird's. I can't feel anything except for the electricity coursing through my veins. I can't see anything but you. The world is a blur. It's like trying to watch tv but the screen is covered by static. But I can see you. I can see your smile and the look in your eyes that says you feel the same way. It's such a pity, though, that it's because of her.