I myself, am not sure who.

But it is there in my mind, a simple siluethe, barely visible from the light around it.

I can smell the gentle fragrance of its vicinity, yet cannot tell you what I smell. I can hear the calming, gentle laughter, yet not hear the tone. Touch the warm hands and not feel the skin.

Is this distance in the past or the future?

If only the light could for a second dim down, I'd know the face of my love. But I fear that if the light disappears, so would the siluethe, defined by it.

A boy who from the moment our eyes met, caused a feeling within me to emerge. I felt as if he was going to be important. The boy that my heart belongs to, stole it without me even noticing. He slowly stole piece by piece until every last ounce of it was his. This boy has led me to fall head over heels in love with him. I don't even know what to do with myself. I had never met the girl that I am when I'm with him, but I like her. I love who I get to be when he's around me. He evokes feelings in me that I never thought would be possible. He makes me thankful for every mistake I've made that has led me to this moment in time when I get to love him the most.

Supposedly, all the great writers are birthed from heartbreak. Their stories spill from their aching ribcages like dandelions through cracked cement. Their bitter thoughts form dulcet script. They filter their pain through ink-and-tear-smudged pages, and they find something unexpectedly marvelous on the other side. They sculpt the ashes of their broken hearts into David.

But as I lie here⁠,

waiting for my blood to cool and trying fruitlessly to convince myself that it’s only the afterglow that makes me want to tell you I love you⁠⁠,

it’s clear I may never be one of the greats.

As I look over my shoulder, I see him. The person I love most, the person I desire the most. His eyes are so dark and complex, but I can still see right through him. I see sadness and hidden anger. I see pain and self loathing. But when he looks at me, I see mostly love. Love for me, well I think for me. His smile pierces right through my heart and I can feel his warmth from his laugh. His laugh is like no other. If I were in a crowd full of people, I can decipher throw the voices and find him. His careful touch brings me ecstasy throughout my body. His fingers are as soft as rose petals but can bring pain like the thorns. He’s given me great sadness but amazing happiness. He’s a controversial person in my life, but also is a big part of it. He’s the perfectness I’ve always desired for, longed for. I would have given anything for as he makes me feel, complete.