I'm addicted to you, and because of that, I have gotten five hours of sleep total in the past week. Your breath gave me chills and your hugs raised my best-thing-ever record to completely unrealistic heights. Nothing will ever beat the feeling of being needed by you. Nothing. And, I'm sorry, but your lap is actually a pillow. Why is it literally comfier than my plushies? Either way, I'm an addict. And I just lost my drug.