In the one hand:

The good times

The adventures

The butterflies in my stomach

The "I love you"s

The iridescent greeny blue-grey of your eyes

In the other hand:

The bad times

The endless waiting

The rocks in my stomach

The "Please leave your message after the tone"s

The effort from me (100% at least, and glad to have it, I can't tell if you are)

The not-so-iridescent greeny blue-grey of my soul

Both hands can hold what they have

But of the two only one ever need grip tighter at any given time

And more and more it is the first hand that is exhausted from holding tight

So as not to lose what it has

So how on earth am I supposed to reconcile

How you make me feel

With 

How you make me feel?