Why You and I Work
Sometimes, it’s so hard to see how you and I could work. How you and I could jive. Because we’re two opposite ends of the spectrum. Because you hate fastfood and I love it. Because you can cook and I can’t. Because you’re more willing to share than I am. Because sometimes, we don’t laugh at the same things. Because we got bills to pay and we got nothing figured out (right. Taylor Swift reference. sorry.) Because sometimes, I want to just go out and eat and you want to stay home and cook. Because sometimes, we couldn’t get each other. Because you’re you and I am me.
But there are days. There are days when I can see why. There are days when our worlds merge as one; when you and I become.
You and I work because sometimes, when we talk late, late at night and just blurt out, “I’m hungry” or “I want (insert name of food here), we’d end up just laughing about it.
Because we talk late, late at night. period.
Because you cook for me and make me try different dishes without having them cost too much.
Because even if I’m dysfunctional and crazy (I admit that), you’re there.
Because even if I don’t get you sometimes, I’m here.
Because nothing was ever the same when you came.
Because I was never the same when we happened.
Because I love you.
And because you love me, too.