About the two ...

I hope she doesn't make you smile the way I do when I lean in towards you, speaking low about my indecisive decisions of where our next misadventure should be.

I hope she doesn't know that special way of catching your attention when you silently detach in the middle of caresses.

I hope she doesn't awe you the way I do when I lie about my disposition, pretending I'm so much stronger and hiding the growing cracks on my soul, but truth being you can see right through my vulnerability.

I hope she doesn't lay in bed with you, her long slender legs tangled up with yours, as you softly sing together the rock music that I grew up listening to.

I hope she doesn't feel like I do when I sidle up next to you and slip my arms around your waist for a snuggle.

I hope she doesn't make your heart flutter like the moths we saw near the swimming pool of your apartment.

I hope her lips don't catch yours the way ours did when we stay home watching movies until the sun comes up and I have to shower and get ready for work, feeling the bite bruises on my neck.

I hope she doesn't gently clasp her fingers with yours when you drive.

I hope she doesn't make you feel the way I make you feel, in any way at all, because if she does, then I will cease to exist.