This is what it's like

Oh, I see it now; I get it now. This is how it's supposed to feel. You're supposed to feel loved, you're supposed to feel special. Sure it's fun to sneak around the city at night, stealing kisses in dark alleys, one-way street corners, rooftops, empty hallways, backseat of your car, anywhere vacated. But in the daylight he's so ashamed of your secret affair that he can't bear to hold your hand, nor look you in the eye; it's like you're strangers around others - if you're strangers in the daytime, might as well be strangers in the night as well. He's supposed to call you back when he says he will. He's supposed to feel proud saying your name. He's supposed to be excited to introduce you to his friends. He's supposed to want to see you and make plans without you having to ask. He's supposed to want to see you in the daytime as often as he wants to see you in the dead of the night. This is what it's like to be treated well. That bubbly, excited, warm feeling - this is what we all deserve.