You make me want to...

You make me want to high five strangers.

You make me want to have a versatile underwear collection...even though we both like lace.

You make me want to be Fun Size, and fit in your pocket. I want to be what you feel for when you're nervous.

You make me want to be an unsolvable Rubik cube. The one exception to your sense and order. A challenge. You make me want to be your rule breaker sitting by your guideline.

You make me want to drink Makers on the rocks.

You make me want to leave every space where I can't have you in the capacity I want you. Those spaces aren't worth it.

You make me want to go on a date. To Costco. Sample eating and shit talking. You'd agree to this. If not because it would be awesome than because I'd ask you to.

You make me want to remove the word disappointed from my vocabulary.

You make me want to send obnoxious, confetti filled Thank You cards to every man that led me to DC. To the Red line. To the NoMa stop. To Quincy Place. To your mini couch.

You make me want to listen to Lauryn Hill. Unplugged...for the rest of my life.

You make me want to come out of retirement. Put my jersey on. And be somebody's number 1 draft pick. Not somebody's. Yours.

You make me want to be unapologetic about every filter I don't have.

You make me want to call a spade a spade. And a train a train.

You make me want to interrupt you mid sentence and tell you what we should do...the same thing you told me we should.