Nobody In Particular (Or Almost Everybody?)

First of all, it’s the eyes. It’s always the eyes.
Eyes that just talk to you, eyes that emanate warmth, and make you feel like she’s listening to you with her eyes. Eyes that you can look into hours on end, eyes that are beautiful even when they’re closed. And of course, eyes that have a slight veil of mystery behind them, that makes you want to know more.
Then it’s always the hard-boiled stubborn attitude; never annoying, but persistently stubborn. Stubborn with a smile that can melt you away when you have objections, stubborn with a somehow no-compromise but easy-going attitude that makes it easy for you to just go along with her idea. And let her go through her own blunder, hahaha…
There’s always the passion for something that I can’t really identify or understand, yet knowing and recognizing the object of her interest always lights up my day, especially when I’m involved in one of her pursuits. I am always intrigued to find out more.
Of course, there’s the hours of talk, whether it be chatting via the internet or just somewhere nice, talking about nothing in particular. Sharing thoughts, sharing ideas, debating, compromising, giving lessons, talking from the heart, crying, laughing, tears, rain, hot air… even moments of silence just staring at something… sharing a song, and talking about that song, how it’s good or not good… or talking about some fantasy, make-believe predicament (I love this!), letting our minds wander into alternate realities…
Sharing a chocolate ice cream, or ordering different flavors of ice cream and sharing with each other…
Playing with cats… befriending the neighborhood cat or any friendly cat that shows up at somewhere we eat…
And if she believes in me, more than I believe in myself…
One important point: the way she touches me. In a friendly way, in a way that makes me think I am worthy of her touch, and that she doesn’t mind simple gestures as a pat on the back or holding by the arm, also as signs of affection.
And always, how she adores my consistently childish mannerisms, like always spilling my food or leaving my mouth unclean, even though I try my best not to.
How she listens to me by looking directly at me, whether or not she knows that I could stop talking if I look into her eyes from utter admiration, or perhaps shyness…

No, I’m not in love, not yet… not any time soon, I figure. But writing this down also helps me define myself.

About barijoe

Failed Musician, Reformed Gadget Freak and Eating Extraordinaire.

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