I do like him and that’s a fact. I like who he is and his looks are simply an additional thing that can be appreciated. He is kind and I like that. I like the way he walks, and talks, and does everything. His eyes. Holy moly. His eyes. I hate to be cliche and all, but sometimes that’s what the world needs to hear about, those utterly cliche moments. To be completely honest I’ve liked him since the moment I met him; the very moment I saw him. There was something about him that entranced me. I don’t know what that thing was, but it has haunted me. Now we are friends, but something deep down in me has always been drawn to him. I enjoy seeing him…when I do. I wish I could see him more. Truthfully though I denied my gut feeling about him because I thought it was too soon for me to start liking someone. I buried what I felt and I settled for simple friendship, but every time I speak to him or honestly got the chance to look into his beautifully blue eyes (oh that sounds so ooey gooey and girly, but I can’t help it!) I am reminded of that first feeling I got when I met him. I don’t know of a word that describes exactly what I felt, but hopefully someday I’ll come across it or make one. For now I’ll have to compensate by using way too many short and unspecific words that fail terribly. I like him. I even remember the moment when it was cemented into my being (the fact that I liked him). We were talking about words and I told him my new favorite word that I had just figured out existed, psithurism. He shard his with me, sonder. He pulled a youtube video up explaining, in black and white, what sonder is. It’s beautiful. The fact that that it is his favorite word is beautiful. There was something special in that moment and it hit me. I just can’t. I can’t believe I was waiting my whole entire life for that moment. And now it is today and I haven’t done anything about it. About him and me. And I hate that. I hate that I’m not doing anything about it. I want to hear him talk all hours of the day and give him a hug just because I can. I want to curl up next to him on a couch and listen to him tell me how his day was. I want my hand to be the hand he wants to hold when his own has no where to rest. I want the chance to look into those blue eyes every day of my life. I want to know all of his favorite things.
Sermonia (n), that’s the word, at least that’s what the feeling would sound like if I made it a one. Maybe someday I’ll admit to him that it is in fact my most favorite word. Psithurism, is great and all, but it fails in comparison to that feeling you get when you know you’ve met someone special.
