throwing caution to the wind

I told myself I would write today. I told myself I would write but I'm distracted, so here I am, writing but not where I need to be, writing to untangle my emotional threads. Don't read this.
there's a lot I want to say to you, all the time,
a lot I have in my brain that swims around (and not aimlessly, mind you, it's careening towards you at an alarming rate), but I usually let the thoughts just swim until they capsize and drown, never quite reaching you.
I'm always afraid of everything--I'm always doubting myself, doubting you, doubting the situation, when at the same time I feel so sure when I'm looking at you that there's something important you have to tell me. Of course, maybe you already told me, you took care of it, but I never really told you the truth. I'm good at that, lying. When I want to be, at least. Sometimes I pretend to be bad at it, pretend to be bad at hiding my emotions because I simply want people to know how I'm feeling, if I'm angry, or frustrated, or painfully infatuated.
Maybe infatuated is the wrong word.
I don't know, what I'm trying to say is that I find everything about you interesting. No matter what it is you're telling me, no matter how tedious the topic, or however unrelatable, I think whatever you think is important is important. I love the way you take in information you think is useful, and then reverberate it all onto me or whoever just to remind yourself that you've learned something. I love that you like to solve problems. I love that you laugh whenever you want, and I love when you laugh at me, your eyes shining like they've found treasure. You're ambitious, passionate, sometimes kind of lazy.
Anyway, I guess I'm still jumping around because I don't want to say what I want, because I guess I don't know. Maybe I haven't told you because I already know the answer, but maybe I feel like I should just tell you anyway. You already know. This is word vomit. None of this is pretty, none of this is important, it's all just the space between my heart and my mind on the page trying to make sense of everything that's happened. Nothing has happened. Nothing will happen unless I make some grand gesture or unless you're not thinking what I know you're thinking.
It's pretty gutsy of me to post this, anyway. Nobody reads this but I mean, it's on a public page. If you were to get curious about me (heaven forbid) and actually look for me on any social media forum, this would be pretty accessible. I'm sure it's nothing you don't know.
I mean, what I want to say I guess is that something in me feels like I need you. And maybe it's just the idea of you, but I can't shake it and it confuses me that you don't feel it too. I don't know what I need you for, I'm pretty O.K. by myself. Take that how you will. It's late.