How I feel about this boy

I like the way he makes me feel when I’m in bed with him.

The way he touches, caresses me makes me feel seen and adored. It’s too soon for this to be true of course, but the fact that he makes me feel this way is to be noted.

He touches me like a blind man who’s trying to see, grabbing at my features in the dark.

He’s quiet. I’m quiet. Quiet enough for him to talk at length about how quiet we both are. I’m still not sure what he meant to say in that conversation.

Are we two, too quiet people too quiet to be together?

He asks me to explain every time I describe myself. Either he thinks too much or my vocabulary has become wanting. He’s not just smart but intelligent.

His words are precise and I suspect he expects the same from others.

He’s not as in touch with his emotions as I’d like him to be. Either that, or he is not able to readily admit when I make him nervous out loud. He makes me nervous when he gazes into my eyes for long periods of time.

I told him that he’s hard to read when he asked me what I thought of him. He told me that he thinks the same of me.

I’m still not sure how I feel about this boy, but I enjoy his company.