Juvenile Love

I had seen him before, more than once to be exact, hell I passed by him everyday. I knew the lines of his jaw, the way his chin poked out just a little too much, and the stubble of his beard which was patchy in some areas and full in the others. He had long blondish hair that hung like ringlets on a small child and his eyes were the deepest of blue. So blue that you felt like you were staring out into the ocean on a calm morning. Most times he wore a crooked smile on his face and occasionally you would see the pinkest of tongues stick out the left side of his mouth. Upon his shoulders lay the stories of girls who had cried happy tears but by the way he stared straight into your soul when he looked at you, I assumed most of them were sad tears. He was tall and lanky and had the demeanor of an awkward person trying to pass off as normal. But he wasn’t normal and that is what I liked most about him. He was an artist, a singer, a songwriter, a poet, a free sprit. He was here and there. He was a reality inside a dream. It was true I had seen him before, more than once to be exact but I had yet to met this human being who recurred in my dreams night after night after night. Moving through the crowded hallway I couldn’t stand the constant shuffling of students from one classroom to another and the loud shouts from students and their friends. But all at once my world began to crumble when I was instantly met by a pair of blue eyes that caught my attention. They caught my attention because they belonged to the beautiful soul that ran through my mind for months on end, because they belonged to him. The him with the eyes and the hair and the height. So tall and delicious …. I lost my train of thought. How could a young men such as himself be so inviting and yet resemble so much of a young child it was uncanny. My mind began to race a mile a minute, all the while my eyes never left his. His lips were moving but the sound never reached my ears, I was staring out into the ocean on a calm morning. LOST.


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