February 6, 2016
Let me tell you about the boy I fell in love with. I’m not going to tell you his name or his age or where he lives or what he likes to do with his free time, but rather, I’ll tell you about his anatomy; I’ll tell you about the things that make him who he is. I’ve fallen in love with every part of him; entranced by his freckes, bewitched by his laugh, and captured by the bones underneath his skin. I could study him all day; sometimes I even do. I could create disorderly constellations by connecting his freckles for infinite lifetimes and never get bored. Sometimes I start with the freckle perfectly placed on the bottom of his sternum, and other times I’ll start with the freckle on his chin. The prominence of his collarbones never cease to entice my curiosity. I only wish I could trace them from their beginning and ultimately to their end. I am often restless during the night because thoughts of the way his neck looks when he swallows or when he throws his head back in laughter preoccupies my mind. Speaking of his laugh, I could listen to that sweet sound for the rest of my existence. The waves of his laugh crash upon my ear drums and serenity fills my entire body. How could I ever become distraught with a laugh like his constantly reminding me of how incredible life is? To be completely honest, his voice in general is the very thing that my ears crave to hear on a daily basis. He has many different voices. However, if I had to pick and choose just one of his voices to be my favorite, I would choose his morning voice. With just the simple sound of his voice in the morning, you would be able to envision his puffy eyes and messy hair. God, his messy hair. To be able to run my fingers through that soft, brown hair would be the ultimate pleasure. I imagine it’s soft, anyway, considering it looks as if it is. I often think about his skin; I dream about the way it would feel on my fingertips if they danced across it. I would trace every crevice and bone there is to trace on his skin. My fingers’ route would at some point meet with his fingers, also. I could talk about his fingers for hours. The way they move, the way they touch, the way they look. I wonder if his hands are gentle or aggressive. His hands are the only hands I desire to hold; his fingers are the only fingers I desire to intertwine with mine. I’ve fallen in love with his shoulders. When he sits lazily slumped over and his shoulders droop, I swear my breathing staggers. And when he moves in a certain way and I see his muscles move underneath his skin, my heart stops. I could watch his muscles until the end of time. And when he smiles, my eyes focus on the little chip in his front tooth. His flaws are the most beautiful flaws. His lips perfectly exemplify how beautiful his flaws are. His lips are often chapped because of his allergies and I couldn’t be more blown away by the perfection within that imperfection. When he smiles and when he talks, I watch his lips. I watch and wonder what their texture is like. I’ve fallen in love with his scruff and his messy yet clean eyebrows and his ear piercings. The way he walks gives me goosebumps and his pants often hang low on his hips which makes me stumble. His nose is the cutest nose out of all noses and his eyes are not to be messed with; you could get lost in that sea of brown for ages. When he clenches his jaw and makes that stupidly beautiful face he always makes, I swear you will be convinced that there is no evil in this world. All of these little things, like his cheeks and his eyelashes, are what he’s made up of and I am irrevocably in love with every single one. Each detail is another one of the reasons I feel the way I feel about him. I could talk about him for infinite measures of time because there is not one thing that I do not notice about him. This incredibly ethereal human being has worked his way under my skin and into my veins and I’ve never been more willing to be intoxicated. This is the boy I fell in love with.