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There's you with the laid back, nonchalant, suave physicality.
And then there's you as me, a little less perfect than I expect. And paradoxically, a little more perfect.
And then there's you up there, front and center, with loud confidence and all the right ways to make the world smile.
And then there's always the quirks and usual coquetry of the teenage soul. But that act, as they say, will eventually grow old (although I do like the idea of me and you and growing old).
But when it comes down to it, what stops my heart is when you peer into my childhood dreams and ask for me in ways beyond consciousness.