But we're so dangerously different. You are calm where I am manic. You are patient where I jump in. You are measured where I am overflowing. You operate with purpose while I insist on going with the tide. You see reason when all I can see are emotions. I can't figure out why you would be drawn to me, or vice versa for that matter. Well, at least you think my quips are funny.
What I do know is that you are on my mind constantly. And it is due, in part, to the fact that you are becoming a fixture in my life again. And as much as I would like to allow myself to free fall into your piercing gaze, I can't be sure that you would catch me. The feelings I had for you once are still there, lying dormant under layers of hurt and disappointment. I can't let you bring those to the surface unless you can promise to take care of them.
I've always been open with you and you've always known where I stand. I sometimes wish that I could get the same from you. I wish that it wasn't so hard to get inside your head. When I think of how hard it really will be to have a mature, adult relationship with you and I think about how much I'm going to have to change (albeit, for the better), I still want to try with you. I can only hope that is enough because trying's all I've got.
I can't tell you what we should do but we both know what we want to do. Maybe you could try jumping in with both feet. You might actually like it.