STORY OF A STUDENT

I think: I love your handwriting, who knows where you got that 4 that seems a little wrong to me, but then in reality it's all a bit wrong, so the place we share, you are so messy and you have a lot of vices that basically I would not take away from you

I say: it is absurd that we have known each other for a long time and how is it that we have not seen each other before?

I think: the first time i saw you we were so close and now i know i'm not quiet until you tell me it made you nervous, and i love that you never take it out on me, pout and pretend mad with that muscular giant look and then two minutes later you're already pinching my butt

I say: how nice that we have never argued and neither of us ever wants to find an excuse to do so and we never got angry and we talk a lot and then hey we fucked almost 200 times but you believe it? you know how to do it, that's cool

I think: who knows how he doesn't get mad even when I accidentally break glass glasses or I'm clumsy and dirty something or spill cherries on the table or distract him while he is about to win a game

I say: love put our photo back in the bedside table that is crooked or you always make it fall

I think: I would like to collect your sweatshirts, your papers, your notes, your CDs, your broken pens, your playlists, your books thrown to the ground, your blankets always in very bad shape, your large t-shirts, your funny socks, and I have your sweat on and your smell too, let's go to the shower and I love putting soap in your back and scolding you when you don't dry your hair or put on socks

I say: now I'll make you bed before going out because I don't like how you do it, because you do it badly and eat a little more while we play League so you can show me how to use that character?

I think: come on come closer now that I would like a kiss and you still make me this effect and the shivers more and more I like them very much and when you lock my hands behind my back I don't understand much anymore as when your hands explore, no I don't understand much when you take me by the neck but I feel your breath

I say: close your drawer that there are our things and especially mine

I think: I would like to pierce this bubble of absolute self-sufficiency and tell you that I need you and tell you that all the people I know have always had a habit of comparing and saying 'you are like that, it looks like you' and other bullshit like that, while me instead with you I never had any yardstick and the first times in your house I looked at you and I saw only you, I could not compare you to anything, really to nothing and now I realize that you do not look like anything I have ever seen in my life.