i'm not too sure why my dad wasn't real fond of me, why i turned out brunette when all my family was blonde,
why x=15,

or why birds get the privilege to fly far away when they please.

i never knew why caterpillars turned into butterflies when i'd always been plain,
why people were so stupidly confusing,
why sleeping was always the better option,

or how your brain (or i guess, your heart) decided you were infatuated with the boy who had cascading chesnut brown hair and orange-ish brown eyes (and thick eyelashes!)

but i know i still think about you too much.

my life's been filled with inconsistencies,
unreliable people,
complicated words that sent me into the arms of endlessly dusty dictionaries.

i never really knew much or understood much and couldn't ever find a pattern; a rhythym to anything.



but the only thing that's ever been the same was




my




loving




you.