There's something about you

It kills me that your eyes are so vibrantly blue. That you can leap into the air and seem to fly. That you make jokes only a few people catch. That you suddenly throw me back into old nervous habits. That you say things without thinking and spin my head. The way you drive, the palm of your right hand flat, turning the steering wheel so easily around corners. It kills me that everything happens in it's own time. That I may not have any say in this. That truly, I would like nothing better than to be your best friend. To sit squished next to you in backseats of cars. To listen to you for hours. To call you on the phone for an honest friendly conversation. To take road trips into cities for photo opportunities. To hug you without inhibition, as a brother, as a friend.