It is strange.
You are told that when these things happen, you'll just know.
You won't be able to catch your breath,
your stomach will be in knots
and a thunderbolt will fly through the sky.
But it doesn't ... it didn't.
It is strange.
It is not that you are particularly handsome - you are not.
But it's the way you make me feel.
You make me laugh.
You make me smile.
I look forward to seeing you.
I look forward to you coming to see me.
But I know there is no future in it.
It will not go anywhere.
I want the thunderbolt.
I need it.