I don't think you understand, I don't want to love you, so please stop making me.
You don't think I understand, you're not making me, please stop loving you.
I don't think you understand, you're making
me.
It's the way you smile, and the way you laugh. It's the way you're the perfect height, and the way you're the perfect size. It's the way you look so good in your dark sweater and jeans. It's the way you bought me mcdonalds, so I wouldn't have to go home. It's the way you talk about the things you love, and the happiness in your voice. It's the way you love her, and still love her, no matter what she keeps putting you through. It's the way you stay with her when everyone is telling you not too. It's the way you hit me when I say something stupid, and the way you look at me, when I say something mean. It's the way you tease me, after I telll you me deepest secert. It's the way you make everything okay, and the way you make everything normal. It's the way you won't tell her when you're with me, even though it's all truly innoccent. It's the way you act so tough, but are such a softie. It's the way you are so sweet with me, and the way you tell me you love me. It's the way you call me sis, and friend zone me everyday. It's the way that we can talk so easily about pregnancy, and periods, and how you broke my heart, and the things we've both done, but shouldn't have. It's every damn thing about you.
I don't think you understand, I don't want to love you, so please stop making me.