Why do you do this to me? How did you ever get the power to do so? These questions I always want to ask you, but I never get a chance. The butterflies in my stomach always stir me up and I cannot concentrate on anything other than you and that handsome face of yours. May I kiss it? I don’t even need to ask. I would kiss it all day if I could, but growing up means a load of responsibilities and I can’t stay home playing all day like I used to. So tell me, why do you do this to me? Why do you insist on putting a smile on my face and making it so hard to go on throughout my day when you can’t be there? It is the best torture around.