Yours.

When I say: I'm yours, I mean it.

Yes, that's how I'm feeling right now. I'm yours. My sight. My hearing. My scent.

My feeling.

I hate to admit it. My feeling. That's not something I could give it to anyone, but you seems to have it so easily. Yes, you have my feeling. You manage to alter the way I feel for the weather, the way I see the day, the way I translate the hours. You did it. Congratulation.

I am always so sheepish. I always hope to bump into you, and imagine what's next, what's next, what's next. Everytime I did, everytime I didn't. I bumped into you, but I don't have the gut to look at you, I can only smile. Yes, smile, as if you can get what I feel for you, through my silly smile. And as usual, you will smile back to me, just as what you did to other friends. Though close. Though hi-bye. Just like the way you read me.

You're impossible to live with. But impossible to live without.

When I see you with your friends, with your classmates, or with your races, I can always see your face. So natural, so easy, so friendly. As if everyone could be your friend --everyone, but me. Maybe.

People say when you in love with someone, you can feel the heart beat. Yea, I feel it, but I don't like it. It's like your heart is going to drop out anytime. Anytime, when you are around me. When I feel my heart beat is increasing, I know that you must be somewhere around. Needless to look at your face, your scent is enough to make me faint. Faint, because my heart stop beating. Stop beating, because you are around me. You are around me, but you are not with me.

I'm yours.