This guy I know walks around with his kindle. He flips more e-pages in a minute than a fanatic reader would do in 2. He is a complete intruder, intruder of your mind. He won’t even look at you, just settle, and enjoy in the little world that he has created for himself and yet keep you captivated around the idea of him being around. Thousands of pages, unaccountable words and God knows how many stories his mind entails. If I were to map the size of his mind, I’d choose the number of books he has read over the degrees he has earned.
But he doesn’t know what I see when I spend my entire time without reading and just ogling at him. Love, do you even know what is it like to have 268 random thoughts running like furious rats in your mind? Each one of them is worth a novel. But all my thoughts revolve around him. I wonder, what is it like to be him? To wear his skin? To talk through his mouth? To walk around with his soul? To carry the weight of things, people and memories that people have been leaving on his shoulders?
I want to know what he thinks when he says I am thinking nothing. I want to know what he sees when he sees the settling sun. I also want to know how different the air is that brushes his cheeks or how rain falls on his shoulder or how the strong brontide of love feels in his heart. I want to know everything. I want to know how much he hates things when he says I don’t like it. I want to know how he sees himself in my favorite blue shirt. I want to know whether he knows how I feel about him.
He isn’t much of a talker, but I love to hear him. He doesn’t appreciate the idea of queer amusement, but I cannot help but giggle on whatever jokes he make. He doesn’t like blabbering either, but I love to hear random tiny-tales that he cooks for me. He isn’t like other boys, no! He is a different kind, a kind of his own, a kind I have never seen before and a kind which is rare. He’s great. He’s an angel. He’s a miracle. He’s magic.
He’s like an ice-cube burning on fire flames, rubbles that fly to your eyes and leave you teary, jitters when you hear your favorite song on the radio and butterflies in your stomach.
Someone I know makes me fly to cloud 9. Someone I know takes my heart across the world with his words. Someone, I know paints a new painting for me. Someone I know offers a poignant platter garnished with no strings attached. Someone, I know sings me lullaby to sleep.
Someone I know is Godsent. <3 <3 <3