When I see you, I crumble. Everything inside of me falls apart. With a single look, the castle that I have carefully built for myself crashes to the ground and I lie paralysed, devastated, in the rubble and dust. You ruined me. It hurts to see you. When I see you, I crumble.
I wait patiently for the one who provokes the opposite effect. I wait for the man who will make me melt purely from the sight of him, who conjures within me every firework-, shivering- and butterfly-related lovestruck cliche simply by his existence. The sight of him will make me fall apart in the best possible way.
I will unravel at the seams so that only the best parts of me can escape, yet he is not afraid to discover my worst parts. He adores me when I am sunshine personified, he adores me when I rain, he adores me when I’m a hurricane. And whenever I see him, whenever he walks into the room, whenever I hear his voice, I do not crumble, I melt.