I don’t get it. I don’t get you. I have never been this turned around in my entire life._ You walk into a room, and suddenly my thoughts aren’t where I left them. My words come out twisted, my feet don’t know which way to step, and before I can get my bearings, I’m caught—wrapped up, spun about, completely and utterly shook by you._ And I fight it. I try to straighten myself out, to stand firm, to make sense of the way you look at me, the way you are, the way you make every simple thing feel like a knot I can’t untangle. But the harder I pull, the tighter it gets, until I don’t know if I’m trying to break free or if I just want to stay caught._ And I should want to. I should want to walk away, shake you off, put myself back together. But I don’t._ Because nothing else has ever rattled me like this. Nothing has ever spun me around so completely that I forget which way I was going in the first place. And maybe that’s the truth of it. Maybe feeling this tangled, this lost, this utterly befuddled means I’ve finally found something that matters._ And maybe—just maybe—you feel it too._