It's 2:32 am and I'm thinking about him and how he thinks and speaks and I wonder if he's thinking about me too as he crawls into bed tonight. He is so wonderful, it's like nothing can taint him, his simplicity. Every time he looks at me it's like he has hand painted my most inward corners with a fresh coat of paint, and when he laughs I can feel the ground shake as the earth shivers into itself absorbing his warmth. And his smile is so incomparable and it makes me wonder how something so simple can put me in such a place, isolated from words and pictures and logical thoughts and there is just him. Like an outstanding presence that won't go away and I'm not quite sure if I want him to anymore. It's as if merely trying to think of a word to compare him to rids that word of it's meaning and replaces it with him. I have written books in my mind about his smile but they will never compare to the stories and questions and really bad jokes that pour from his being. He really is something special, and being around him makes me feel like I must be, too.