Sandwich the bad with the good ones

1 It was our little jokes, our little moments that do it for me. I like seeing you laugh. It makes me realize that a) we are connected -- or our humor-part-of-the-brain or tickle bones, at least; and that, b) I could make you happy, despite of everything else that I fail to do for you. You were teasing. I hate being teased, but I liked it when it's you. Like you're trying to be sexy, or something. Like you're trying to get in, to get closer. I like to get even deeper with you.

2 I worry about our good days. Whether I can trust them or not. Was I purposely being happy? Was it not because all things were good at that time? Was it because (and actually) nothing was okay, and I had to cook something up? To have that one thing, which could console cover up the cracks. Were you purposely being happy? Because you were tired? (Of me, I guess.) (I can be really difficult, most of the time.) Was that emptiness I saw when you laughed? Or was I being paranoid, overthinking? Were you really having a good time? Or were you afraid I'd ask what's wrong? (Were you tired of answering what's wrong?) Was I the only one who was happy? Or did I notice, but chose to ignore. (That you weren't actually there. Or that you were half feeling whatever we were (doing/feeling).) Did I choose to ignore so I could be happy? Because deep down I know I could only be happy in that single moment, and I think I deserve to be happy even for a single moment? Because... am I starting to be needy of good days? That makes me avoid looking through you? Was I just trying? Was I even trying for the good of us? Were you?

3 I enjoyed absences. I really shouldn't. It was being irresponsible. But the feeling.. of you. Being around. (Endlessly) Touching. Staring. Spooning. God, I love spooning. (Only with you.) I could live on your back, and die there happy. (That's exaggerating, I know.) I love us talking. And I love us silent. And I love how both give us all these theories (you could say realization) (about us). We're having lesser arguments every day. You massage me when I ask for it. I let you watch your shows. (Despite my hate lack of enthusiasm for wrestling and basketball.)