Words, or lack there of

See the thing is that I do not know what to make of you.
I do not know how to describe you,
Metaphors fail me
There seems to be nothing for me to compare you to.
No ‘like’ or ‘as’ because I guess there is nothing left for me to say.

Or maybe I can’t bring myself to say anything because that would mean that I would have to think of every word that you ever said to me,
Or every moment that you spent on my mind.
Or how it simply wasn’t meant to be.

And I can’t bring myself to think of those things because I can feel my heart breaking all over again.

See the thing is I usually compare the men I fancy to hurricanes and storms.
I label them as ‘dashing’ and ‘breathtaking’

But it is only when I am no longer hung up on the idea of them, that I see that they are just boys.
You are just a boy.
But I’ll be ****** if go on and I haven’t labeled or compared you to any of those things because just like I described them,
I will describe you.

I just haven’t found the right words yet.
Or maybe just maybe I’m scared that when I find them I will be far too fond of them.