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The odd thing about love. In my case.
The more you fight I the more you realize how much you care for that other person.
I spent my days trying to tell my self,
"Love is nothing but a fruitless endeavor"
But then they would show up,
Making a dumb goofy face.
I want to get mad at them or tell them to stop it,
but I find myself lost in a giggle.
Now more concentrated on them then I was before.
Realizing that when ever they seem to smile I find myself smirking along.
Concentrating on the hair that hangs onto their head,
and the indents that cause them to be themselves.
But that also leads me to see their imperfections,
The hollow caverns in witch their bright eyes lay,
The divots into their facial skin,
How concentrated I've become on them and only them.
I need to look away.