You sit on your bed. Your notebook lies in front of you; a pen is in your right hand. You stare at the page, wanting so desperately to put your emotions into a beautiful flurry of words. For once, you can use happiness as your inspiration, but that seems so incredibly boring to you. There must always be some sort of struggle in your pieces. If everything is all right, nothing happens; there would be no beginning and no end. Simply… words.

You tap the end of the pen against the paper, listening to it click, and then press it to your lips as you try to sort your thoughts. To no avail. With a sigh, you fall backward into your pillows.

In your mind's eye, you watch your emotions spin inside you, wisps of bright colours that chase each other around in figure eights. They leave trails of light behind them to mingle with the paths of others, twisting together to form hybrid emotions. Why can't you find some way to catch at least one of them and pin it down in ink?

You remember his smile. You like his smile; you like making him smile. Then you remember the warmth of his hand in yours, of your fingers laced together; your heart flutters wildly. You blush, grinning.

You think of how pathetic you would seem if someone were to read your thoughts. Your hand moves to cover your eyes, as though to stop this from happening. You smile again. You are pathetic. Does it matter? No, you decide. It doesn't.

You roll sideways, then back into a sitting position to slouch over the pages once more.

You like how comfortable you feel around him. You like that you had wanted to be sitting next to him, instead of on the other side of the room as so not to embarrass yourself. You hadn't been afraid to make a complete fool of yourself in front of him. Somehow, you know that he would forgive you for anything, and that you would do the same for him. How could you hold a grudge against him? In your eyes, he's perfect. But will he always be? You decide that you don't want to think about it. It doesn't matter at the moment. The only thing that you need to worry about right now is finding a way to get all this onto paper. But you need to write it in a way that will make anyone who reads it feel your emotions in the most perfect detail; in a way that will make them fall for him the way you have.

Does it really have to be beautiful? Why can't it simply be... words?

You smile as you begin to stain the page with your beautifully imperfect scribbles.

Help. (: