It’s when you touched my hand, when we were not dancing. The touch was longer than just a touch to get my hand out of your hair.
I felt so nervous, my heart almost jumped out. I wonder if you realized it.
And when you put your hand on your shoulder, I couldn’t find the courage to touch you big hand once again. Awkward, isn’t it? Maybe the touch of your hand did mean something. Or at least let me think that it had some special meanings. The touch has kept me smiling from yesterday night until now, and it will make me smile for a while, I know it.
Just seeing you, talking to you, watching your smile, looking at you, I feel the desire to touch you, to lean onto your broad chest, to close my eyes and hold you… So much do I want you to look at me with more special emotions than with others…
This feeling, have I ever had it? Have I ever been that shy? Have I ever been this sensitive? Have I ever been so romantic? Have I ever been this girly?
You asked why I said thank you. Thank you for picking me up. Thank you for wandering around with me. Thank you for touching me. Thank you for giving me such feelings. Thank you for everything that makes me who I am now :)