People inside my head-3

"I think the first thing I fell in love with were those eyes 

Glassy, innocent. Just stare at them for hours, without words. They sing a history of their own. It's like a subtle invite. Come, sink within me. Drown. In stories, in tunes, we'll make a saga of our own. 

Then came the hands. Always making something beautiful. Obsession with faces. Lines, quick but with a lot of thought inside his head. That head works so rapidly. Fireworks. Slow but rapid. And them boom. Sit and stare at the colors, the light, the sounds that fade all the noise away. 

It's the way he does things. Holds the pen. How his palm rubs so smoothly against the paper. Hell, I'm not just romanticizing anymore. This is real. He's so fucking real. 

Took me so long to let all of him settle in. How can someone be this way. I could make a million metaphors, wouldn't suffice. He has the whole world inside him. 

Then the restlessness. So familiar. There can't be a sequence. Everything about him is non-sequential. That's how I fell for him too. A little here, a volcano there, a breeze here and a big wave there. Why should there be continuity in anything. There is but damn how do i put that to words. 

For the first time in my life, the only thing I could express myself in isn't sufficient. It doesn't shock me though. Doesn't scare me. He's driven all the fear in one place and it keeps exploding here and there. Not too specific. Just looking I learn so much, about me, him and the world that's unaware of us. 

Fuck. 

It's not a dream, fuck that bullshit. Shit it's so real. I tremble just thinking about it. "